The Lion, The Dragon, and The Phoenix
by ChelseaTaylor
Summary: Our famous Harry Potter fancys the new girl, but she holds a secret that could change his life forever...and it does. Draco's fond of a Weasley, but how long will it last before he's marked? Involves all characters even the ones we dont like! RR Trust me
1. The Wrong Sort

Chapter one.  
  
'If you take one single second you can see him. Just notice him there. Don't blink! Otherwise, you'll miss him. He's at the Gryffindor table. Yes, that's the boy. Yes, he's famous. But do you understand that you're not thinking of the right person? Do you even know him? I mean really know him. He's the boy with the black hair, yes; it's all untidy. Oh, you see his scar? Yes, that made him who he is now...or who you know him as. He's handsome in his way. It's refreshing to see he can look attractive without trying or wanting to.  
  
Do you see that slight change in him? He looks uncomfortable. He's not talking to Ron or Hermione. Yes, Ron is cute, I agree. And yes, Hermione is Head Girl now. They're both together, and they didn't even need our help!  
  
But back to Harry Potter. He's distracted by something or someone. Or maybe he just needs something or someone? I'm not too sure. Maybe it's that girl up there? There, with the sorting hat on. He's looking at her funny. She's very pretty.  
  
You know who she is? I just realized that's Brooke Parkinson. Oh, come on you know! Daughter of Blake and Parthenia Parkinson, sister of Pansy. You're so forgetful, sometimes I forget who you are.  
  
Back to the subject, could she be the one? She certainly will give him quite a story! After all, she's the one who has to do you-know-what for You-Know-Who. I think it will be so wonderful if we chose her instead of the red haired one. You forgot who I'm talking about again?! Ginny Weasley, of course!  
  
Now our original plan is shot! Who shall we put our Virginia with? I'd like a nice story for her too; she deserves it, being a pawn for You-Know- Who in her first year. But with who? Someone interesting, different, and witty. Someone she wouldn't think twice about--that is how most romances happen. Like our match with that Romeo and Juliet, now that was such a beautiful match. It had all the elements. Oh goodness, now I'm getting off track!  
  
What did you say? Draco Malfoy? Hmmm...you know, that's the smartest thing I've ever heard you suggest. He's such a mystery, that Draco. He doesn't like Weasley's, and Weasley's don't like Malfoy's. He hides a lot; he hides how much care he's capable of. Ginny's good at bringing out people, and our Draco has much to bring out. Right, Draco with Virginia. Now that's what I call a match. This will be so much fun. You can take care of Harry and Brooke and I'll take care of Ginny and Draco.  
  
Ready? One...'  
  
The fog in the enchanted ceiling turned a light purple, and a small split formed.  
  
'Two...'  
  
Two identical red swirls as small as the top of a ballpoint pen appeared in the split cloud.  
  
'THREE!'  
  
The faint swirls darted from the ceiling. On it's way, each of them split in half, forming four brilliant bright pink dots. Each dot slowed on it's way to its owner's heart.  
  
'Well done! I think we can leave for now. Zeus is calling us back.'  
  
***  
  
Harry Potter looked from his plate full of roast beef, corn, mashed potato, and sausage to the sorting taking place. He'd wander in and out of his trances. This year will be so much different in so many ways; he just had a feeling. After all, the person he cares about the most is...he doesn't like to think about it. Hermione nudged his rib. Obviously he hadn't been paying attention to whatever she was saying, but he didn't care much.  
  
The buttered corn became boring to look at so Harry's eyes sauntered back to the sorting. Just in time too--in his opinion. She was tall but not too tall, just right for a model, slim in the waist and rounded at the chest, her hair was gold-not blonde-gold with platinum white locks softly falling on the top. She had the look of being mature for her age and carried herself as if she were superior to everyone else around her. She didn't seem nervous as she pulled the speaking hat over her head, covering that fantastic hair. She didn't even look silly with the hat on, like most do. Harry would bet all his money that she'd be in Slytherin, he could tell just by looking at her.  
  
In what seemed like ages, the frayed hat announced the young lady to her house; her home. "Gryffindor!" Harry would have smiled if he weren't a depressed teenager, mad at the world. He maybe even would have smirked if a particular, obnoxious Slytherin didn't steal his attention.  
  
Pansy Parkinson jumped from her chair, causing it to noisily topple back, catching attention from those near by.  
  
"HOW DARE THAT SENCELESS, GRIMEY HAT PUT MY SISTER IN GRYFFINDOR!" Pansy screamed over Gryffindor's hooting, cheers and even provocative whistling. She pointed a long finger at the hat; her blond hair fell around her milky face. She now had every human in the Hall's attention. "THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! ALL PARKINSON'S HAVE BEEN IN SLYTHERIN FOR THE PAST SIXTY YEARS. GET BACK TO THAT HAT, BROOKE! GO MAKE IT RECONSIDER, OR ELSE I WILL!!!"  
  
Murmurs broke across the Great Hall "A Parkinson in Gryffindor?" Pavarti Patil questioned to Lavender Brown who had half a chicken leg in her mouth. "Well she's certainly not welcome! Can't she go back to her OWN kind?"  
  
It was only natural that everyone was stunned. After all, Pansy Parkinson's ('little Miss. Make-fun-of-Gryffindors-because-Slytherins'-are- so-fucking-great') sister was in Gryffindor. Surly her sister is just as bitchy? Surly she hates Gryffindors' just as much? Surly the sorting hat made a terrible mistake? Puzzled looks came from the professors glancing in turn at Pansy then to the girl with the hat still placed on her head.  
  
Only did this nonsense stop when Dumbledore stood. He didn't speak; he didn't have to. The mere gesture of standing was enough for the entire student body to shut their mouths.  
  
Harry took pity on the girl, Brooke. He looked at her as she strode to his table and realized she was hardly shaken by this ordeal. 'She looks quite brave for a first year.' Harry recognized then thought; 'She actually looks quite gorgeous, for a first year...or for any year.' His thoughts have been uncontrolled for such a long time, he then reminded himself of the brilliant red head sitting next to him, holding his hand; Virginia Weasley.  
  
Then something happened, it was so fast that he almost forgot about it. His heart felt like it was squeezing at the mere fact he stopped thinking of the new first year. 'Whatever.' Harry had been feeling strange things all summer, especially from his heart. But he tried not to think about it. Although, sometimes trying to not think about it only makes you think about it more, so then you'll freely think about it, which is what you didn't want to do in the first place. Very confusing.  
  
Brooke took her seat, her head held high although as soon as her bottom hit the chair, every surrounding first year scooted away from her, as if she were contagious.  
  
Hermione (being the fair way she was) stood and walked towards the first year, leaving Ron to pout.  
  
Brooke saw the girl approach her, she didn't like her fake smile, or the way she held her hand out to her saying, "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Gryffindor House."  
  
"Hello Granger," Brooke replied, eyes dancing. "I'm Brooke Parkinson. I'm here in my first year, although not by choice." Brooke let Hermione hold her hand out to her in gesture of a shake, never taking it. "I'm not and never will be Head Girl because they're all boring book worms who don't have anything to do with their lives." She smiled sweetly as the bushy haired girl's face turned red. Hermione fought to keep her mouth closed from saying something not-so-sweet to the blonde and turned on her heels.  
  
Harry heard the exchange and found himself grinning stupidly. 'Maybe the sorting hat did make a mistake, she doesn't seem like a Gryffindor.'  
  
Dinner ended at an agonizing slow rate for the secluded first year. The students piled from the Great Hall and Brooke joined the mass.  
  
***  
  
Draco was trying his best to ignore them all. Every one of them. Goyle had an uncontrollable burping problem and found it entertaining when he'd let one out into his pumpkin juice, sending splatters on the table and into the green peas close by. Crabbe was sent into a fit of loud, grotesque laughter, clutching his stomach at Goyle's gesture. His mouth was wide open and you could count all the cavities in his yellow teeth. His rotting breath was sent across the bowl of peas and to Draco's arrogant nose.  
  
"Crabbe, control yourself before I die from lack of air." He didn't stop laughing though; it only gave him a re-boost of energy. Goyle burped into his cup again.  
  
Draco shook his head and turned to Blaise Zabini, his closer friend. Blaze seemed to be immersed in conversation with Pansy Parkinson. Actually, after Pansy had screamed at her sister everyone was talking to her, asking her questions. Frankly, Draco couldn't have cared less. He knew about her sister, Brooke for a while; how could he not? Pansy is always going on about something and once in a while Draco would pay attention. He could just about hear her now:  
  
"I can't believe the insanity of it all! Really, pure blooded, smart, sophisticated, and good-looking witches belong in Slytherin! There is no question about it."  
  
Draco had to disagree. Sure, many girls in Slytherin were pretty; Pansy wasn't bad. But he had a strong feeling that a girl at the Gryffindor table was gorgeous. His eyes darted to a petite body, topped with vibrant red hair sitting at his enemy's table, holding his hand, no less. 'What does he have? A stupid ugly scar?' He paused. 'What do I care if she likes him? She doesn't provoke the slightest interest in me.' Draco wasn't so sure that was true, but he didn't need to think on it, his first dinner this year at Hogwarts was over.  
  
The students piled out the massive, oak doors. Each scrabbling through the crowd, trying to flee past everyone in hopes to make it to their dorms sooner than the others. Draco found it childish to want to get out so badly. If he stood away from the mass and wait about two minutes, the walkway would be clear.  
  
Crabbe was one of the idiots who liked to shove though. He thought of doing Draco a favor and grabbed onto his sleeve, tearing them through the crowd. In the middle of the way through, Draco made a harsh contact with the back of some girl's head. He stopped mid-way and Crabbe kept moving. The girl turned around and met eyes with Draco.  
  
"So sorry." She didn't sound sorry, whoever she was. Draco was looking down, covering his nose with his hands.  
  
"Fuck! It's bleeding." Draco didn't like blood, or pain for that matter. His eyes squinted as he pulled his hands away. There was bright red making a slick trail down his fingers.  
  
"Here, sit down." The Hall was empty by now, so no one had to see Draco Malfoy in a weak spot, except for this girl. Draco looked up after he sat. It was that new Parkinson.  
  
"Brooke, right?" Any other time he would have been pleased to meet her. She was pretty. But with blood leaking from his nostrils and feeling nauseous, it wasn't the opportune moment to work his charms.  
  
"Yeah, Brooke." She reached to a clean napkin on the Hufflepuff table they were sitting at. She had about eight silver rings on each hand, black and gray bangles on her left wrist which made a tinkling noise every time she moved, and a funny looking black band around her right wrist.  
  
Brooke wiped the blood from Draco's hand and told him to hold it to his nose, keeping his head tilted back.  
  
"I'm Draco Malfoy and you're going to have to pay for the damage done to my nose."  
  
"What 'damage'?" Brooke chortled. "There's no sign of damage, your nose is the same. I don't know about the rest of your face though." She was kidding, but Draco didn't like jokes like that.  
  
"What? I'm perfect! I'm the one in Slytherin. It's the Gryffindors' that have all the faults." Draco made to give his all-famous smirk but found she already had a similar one spread across her face.  
  
"Good luck with that nose, Draco. And don't worry about the blood, it will come in huge, long clots before it stops." Draco turned a shade of green and watched as Brooke flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away.  
  
When she exited the hall she realized she didn't know where to go to get to her room. She tuned around to ask her new Slytherin enemy but he had disappeared. Brooke sat hopelessly on a ledge of the stone wall to sort out her feelings. 'Why am I in Gryffindor? My parents are going to murder me. Why was I so rude to that Granger girl? It was the only person who put an effort to be kind to me, except for the very attractive Slytherin boy whom I had been rude to also.'  
  
She wanted to leave right then and there, she just wanted to be back home by herself and not worry about this silly mistake, she wanted to cry. She was about to when a young voice called her name and she looked quickly up. An older boy, about seventeen or so walked slowly near her. He wore round glasses, which couldn't ever hide those great, piercing green eyes; he had on a Gryffindor cape and smiled sadly at her as if he knowing she was about to tear.  
  
"Hello, little girl, do you need any help?" He gave her the feeling she should still be in diapers.  
  
"Hello, big boy I do need help but first I'd like to clarify that I'm not five; I'm a first year but I happen to be fifteen."  
  
Harry's face turned into a bemused stare. Brooke wasn't one to trust people.  
  
"I'm quite tired so I don't feel like explaining my life story to you; I don't even know your name."  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
He stated simply, but she knew he--himself wasn't as simple as he made it sound. She knew all about him, he was the 'boy-who-lived'. She heard all about how horribly wonderful he was in Hogwarts through her sister's annoying rambling and about his miracle stories with Voldemort. His name came up all the time at her father's house. How much he hated him, how much his life changed since the fall of the Dark Lord. But now, he has risen again. Now her father was jubilant.  
  
"I know who you are, Harry Potter, your name's quite famous." Harry didn't want to hear that. All his life people knew him has 'Harry Potter-The Famous.' For once he just wanted to hear someone give him a normal response to his name. Harry waited to be plummeted with questions about his life but they never came. This was an improvement.  
  
Harry decided to speak first. "I know who you are, Brooke Parkinson, your name reminds me of a very selfish girl in the Slytherin house."  
  
Brooke didn't enjoy hearing snide remarks from this "Golden boy," even if it was true. However, she understood why he said it and let it slide, not only because she was a Gryffindor too, but also because he was deathly handsome. Harry watched as she turned a shade of pink and thought it was very cute looking but at the same time, prayed he didn't insult this beauty.  
  
"All right, Mr. Potter, which way to the rooms?" Brooke desperately wanted to get to sleep even though it was still early.  
  
"Well, Miss. Parkinson, you follow me." He gave her a wink and turned his back for her to follow. "You missed the tour that has a lot of important information so I'll just have to point out what you'll defiantly need to know." Harry yelled over his shoulder.  
  
"That's fine, just make it fast; I'm in dire need of sleep." Brooke said as she tried to catch a look at Harry's bottom through the long, scarlet cloak.  
  
"Why? Are you sick?" Harry stopped and turned with a concerned expression on his face. This surprised Brooke; she didn't know a boy she'd only just met could actually care about her already.  
  
"No, not sick. I've had a bad day." Brooke bit her lip.  
  
Harry found her irresistible when she looked shy like that. She didn't come off as a shy girl, or a girl that could have a bad day, but she's human. And she's pretty as hell. Harry didn't feel as depressed knowing she wasn't the happy girl he figured she was. He knew it was a horrible thought, but he just couldn't help it. 'Maybe she's just as mad at life as I am?'  
  
"Oh, that's too bad for your first day at Hogwarts. When I came here, my first day was pure bliss." Harry felt horrible as soon as the words slipped. He tried to fix it so she could feel better, "But I was living in a hell hole, so anything to me was pure bliss after that."  
  
Brooke's face lit up a bit and she gave as much of a smile as she could while still biting her bottom lip. Harry flicked his head to the right quickly, indicating to keep walking. He took large strides, like Brooke. Harry was impressed she was able to keep up without looking out of breath, unlike many other girls he knew. When they made it to the split between the Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin halls, Harry stopped. He pointed down each hallway with his long, muscular arm indicating each house, to a very flustered Brooke.  
  
"Don't worry," Harry smiled, "you'll remember where you're going soon enough."  
  
Harry didn't realize Brooke wasn't confused about the halls; she could care less about it. She just couldn't figure out why Harry was being so kind towards her; she never felt so much better in such a short period of time. She wondered if it was specifically him that made her feel better or that if anyone else were as kind as he was she'd feel better just as much.  
  
Brooke was toured all around the Gryffindor hallway, from the bathrooms down to the secret passages. When he brought her to a picture of a fat lady he told her this is where the tour ends.  
  
"All of the Gryffindors are behind this painting now, it's the 'hang out' for us and our bedrooms." Harry explained, looking into such light brown eyes. He suddenly found himself looking all over her bright face. "You remind me of a-uh-um-a lion." Harry stated then turned a bright red at his foolish words.  
  
Brooke raised an eyebrow, like she usually does; then let a warm smile creep to her face and laughed. Harry turned back to his normal shade of peach and laughed along with her. 'His laugh is beautiful,' Brooke thought, 'almost like a song, not obnoxious like a lot of other boys.' When the laughter died down, Harry tried to speak again without embarrassing himself too badly.  
  
"You should have another go at making friends with Hermione. She's one of my best friends, so is Ron; you should talk to him too. Oh, and Ginny, my girl- um, my other friend." Harry almost blew his chances with this girl, but he just denied Ginny, didn't he like her?  
  
"Maybe I will, 'have another go' at them." Brooke gave a smirk and tried to pull the painting open with her hands clenched against the frame but failed.  
  
Harry chuckled and announced: "Lion heart." The fat lady said, "Nice to see you here again, Harry dear." and swung open allowing both teenagers to step inside. 


	2. Black Dream

Just for you to catch up from my last chapter: The fat lady said, "Nice to see you here again, Harry, dear." And swung open allowing both teenagers to step inside.  
  
Chapter two.  
  
Brooke let her eyes wander around the great room. The air was damp but comforting; a warm fire cast an orange glow on the wall. Broken in, scarlet couches surrounded the oak, center table. There were two chessboards set up in the corners, one of which was occupied by the Granger girl she earlier told off and a red headed boy with many freckles. He looked somewhat familiar to her, like a boy she used to know a very long time ago. Brooke let her eyes wander to all the spiral steps, saw the many rooms on the balcony, forty or so.  
  
Harry gave Brooke a friendly nudge to snap her out of the trance she was in, although he was enjoying watching her cute expressions.  
  
"It's quite different here," said Brooke, lamely. Harry continued to stare at her, waiting for her to continue. "Well, what I mean is, my house is much more, well, expensive." She felt like a snob as soon as the words escaped her lips, but Harry nodded as if he understood.  
  
"When I first came here I had a similar reaction, only I thought this place was much nicer then from where I slept." He smiled. "What's your room number, I'll help you find it." Harry wanted to spend a bit more time with her, to let her know she had a friend.  
  
"Room number seven." Brooke said while pointing to her door, indicating she knew where she was going.  
  
"Room seven, huh? That room is for one person, why aren't you sharing with anyone else?" Harry raised one eyebrow similar to the way Brooke does.  
  
"Well, Harry, thank you for all of your help. I most appreciated it. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, as I said, I'm exhausted." She gave him a flirty smile and strode off to her new room.  
  
Halfway up the stairs Brooke turned suddenly around to Harry and found him staring at her bottom, just as she suspected. She gave a small giggle while rolling her eyes before she continued to her walking.  
  
When she came to the door she discovered, (after trying to turn the unmovable handle) that she had to make up a little password for the door to open. She stood there trying to think of a good one and found herself recalling the events of earlier that day. She thought of the sorting hat, the stupid Granger girl, the sexy, blond Slytherin, and of course, Harry Potter. She remembered the password for the fat lady picture. She also remembered what Harry said about her being a lion and sideways smiled. She tried to think of what Harry resembled but drew a blank, until she heard her pet, lightly singing on the opposite side of her room door. She thought of her beautiful pet's green eyes, (like Harry's) its red ruffled feathers and at once announced "Phoenix tail". The door swung open and Brooke took a long stride in her new, "under-priced" room.  
  
"Oh, beautiful." She said under her breath. The shades to her one, huge window, were dusty and ripped. The mirror on the antique, wooden vanity was cracked a bit and her bed looked like it hadn't been occupied, in years, for it was dusty. She threw herself on the bed anyway and fell asleep right away. The last thing she thought of was 'who would actually want to sit next to me tomorrow at breakfast?' then remembered Harry's cooling smile and fell soundly asleep. ______________________________________________________________________  
  
Harry watched as the little, pissed off blond strode directly to her room. He felt sorry for her, not having any friends. He remembered how lucky he was to have met Ron the first day on the train; otherwise he wouldn't have had a friend either.  
  
He waited until Brooke went inside her room before he left to try to find Ginny. He remembered he had left her by herself after he took off to help Brooke to her room. Harry and Ginny had been together for the last month of Hogwarts in his fifth year and throughout the summer. Harry recalled how Ron would drop hints that Ginny wanted to be with Harry more then ever and how silly he made himself sound. Both Ginny and Harry tried to see each other over the last two months but his Uncle Vernon forbid him from using his owl, Hedwig. He had planned to spend as much of his first day with Ginny as he could, unfortunately, "as much as he could" was for just dinner.  
  
He walked over to Ron and Hermione who were playing chess, (Ron winning, as usual) to ask if they've seen her.  
  
"Ron, do you know where your sister is? I should probably talk to her."  
  
"Well, Harry, it's nice to see you too." Ron said and patted Harry on the shoulder looking up. "I think she's already in her room; she was searching for you about five minutes ago, I think she's quite pissed off, mate."  
  
"Oh, thanks." Harry walked hurriedly away from Ron, towards Ginny's room. Before he could knock on the door Ginny swung it open. Her face was as red as her hair and her eyes were bugging out. At that moment, Harry would have given anything to have not walked to her door. When Ginny was mad she sounded even worse then her mother does; he'd take a howler over angry Ginny any day.  
  
"Harry, I can't BELIEVE YOU!" Ginny screamed, sending Harry a step back. "You were with that Parkinson tart!" Harry never saw Ginny so upset, she's usually a quiet, kind girl, the girl that used to be so fond of him, she would ogle over his body and stare at his eyes. Now she looked at him with nothing but ruthless hatred.  
  
"She isn't a tart, Ginny." Harry said, but sounded a little lame. "She was lost and I helped her find the way to her room, that's it!" This time Harry looked at Ginny in her watery eyes and raised his voice a bit, hoping to get though to her, at a bit to himself.  
  
"The last time I checked, Harry, staring at a ditzy git's ASS FOR FIVE MINUTES WHILE THEY WALK TO THEIR ROOM isn't called HELPING!!!" Ginny bellowed and slammed the door shut in Harry's face. He could just hear the last of her sentence though the door and in-between her sobs: "It's called cheating."  
  
Harry's stomach dropped, he didn't mean to upset Ginny, he liked her so much. 'There's just something about Brooke.' Harry shook the words from his mind and walked strait to his room; while trying to ignore all the stares people gave him. When he reached the door he repeated the password from last year and flopped down on his bed. He fell asleep with his clothes on and didn't wake up all night. _____________________________________________________________  
  
Draco Malfoy watched as the sarcastic Gryffindor turned her back from him and walked away. He decided that she thought he wasn't anymore then a complete fuck up, just as every other Gryffindor thought (especially the girls). He started to look downcast, feeling sorry for himself until he abruptly shook his head, 'oh, shit now I have the feelings of a bloody Hufflepuff.'  
  
Draco began to openly walk back to his tower until he realized he shouldn't be out in the halls by himself at this hour so he sunk into the shadows of the gargoyle statues, heading for his room. He always had a small gift of sneaking around and becoming a bit of scenery. He remembered nights at his home when no one was up and he had to sneak out to get some food because his father punished him to stay in his room for days on end, starving and extremely bored.  
  
Finally he reached the door to his familiar common room, took a deep breath, and stepped inside. Emerald green filled his eyes and made him somewhat dizzy. The room almost shouted: "Your unwelcome, get out, you silly boy!" It was cold and dim, but to Draco, it felt more like home then any other place ever had.  
  
He took a seat in the hard armchair to stare at the booming fire just as Pansy Parkinson slumped out of her grand room and over towards Draco.  
  
"Oh Draco, isn't it just marvelous to be back?" She helped herself onto his lap and leaned her stupid head on his shoulder. "It's ever much more marvelous that you are Head Boy! I'm just so proud of you; of us!" Pansy leaned in close to whisper in his ear, hoping she sounding sexy. "You know what that means, right baby? You've got your own room; we've got our own room."  
  
Draco stood up, causing Pansy to stumble to her feet. He shook his head, a smirk playing on his chapped lips. "Pansy when I'm bored and have nothing to do, then I will call on you to occupy my time. You were good fun last year but I'm afraid it may be the end, dear." Draco saw Pansy's smile drop. "Look, I'll do it one more time with you; just one and that's when I want to do it, not you. When that time arrives I will have to be unbelievably bored and also extremely horny." Pansy shook her head in understanding; he gave her a small un-meaningful kiss on the cheek and strode away to his new bedroom, feeling very proud of himself.  
  
Pansy watched Draco leave, her face tuned white and she fought to hold back threatening, salty tears. Draco Malfoy had looked at her the same way he would look at air. To him, she was less then nothing; to her, he was more then everything.  
  
***  
  
Draco carefully eyed his dormitory; he felt it was missing something quite important. The walls were a dark, wintergreen to match the sofas surrounding a small fireplace. His bed was queen sized with black silk covers laid neatly across. He had his own bathroom too, with a very large tub that smelled of pine needles. He kept searching around the oversized room when he suddenly realized what was missing; he didn't have any windows at all. He didn't mind so much, it's just that he felt as if he were underground, in a hole or something of that sort. He let out a sigh and strode to his private, white bathroom.  
  
Suddenly, Draco felt overly hot in his velvet robes (his father purchased them hand made to fit properly) and let them fall to the tiled floor. He was now wearing a thin, white undershirt and loose fitting black pants with a silver buckled belt. He walked to the porcelain sink to splash warm water over his face, hoping to relax him.  
  
Looking up at the mirror above the sink, faucet water dripping from the end of his nose, he saw himself, his hair was still perfectly slicked back, as always but a bit shorter then last year, his face was white with high, defined cheekbones, he wore a blank expression filled with utter boredom.  
  
He then remembered Pansy's face after what he had said to her; she looked more then just let down. They really did have some fun times with each other last year. They'd sneak off to the bathrooms, lock the doors and he'd have his way with her, like he always did and always had liked. She was very good at it; she really did try to make him happy with her. Her moan was pleasant to hear too, but other then that he didn't feel much emotion while doing it, like love.  
  
Then Draco started to think about her little sister, Brooke. The way she bit her pink lips when she was nervous after bumping into him made him blush, almost. Her breasts were most attractive, even through her cloak. They were the perfect size, big and rounded. Quickly, Draco snapped himself to reality. Was he actually thinking of Brooke? She was a Gryffindor. And Pansy, she was a great fuck buddy why is he even considering something as foolish as love?  
  
He let out a long sigh and splashed his face in the running water once more then went to his bed. It took him a while to fall asleep. The room around him was like a stranger, he felt most uncomfortable. About a half-hour later Draco fell fast, into a black dream.  
  
***  
  
Thick, deep red liquid was pouring down through the door room. Gryffindors including Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Brooke Parkinson, and Harry Potter himself, surrounded Draco along with three Ravenclaw second years.  
  
Everyone in the room looked terrifyingly at the streaming ruby water except Draco and Brooke who had their wands in one hand, their other hands grasped tightly together. More and more liquid piled into the room, the wind was whipping fiercely at their face. Suddenly, Harry stood to his feet and drew out his wand next to Brooke and smiled at her. The red splashed into their bodies but the three remained standing. Ron then took a large breath and stood next to Draco, Hermione followed suit at pulled out her wand in sync with Ron. Terrifying screams could be heard down the hallway as more of what tasted like blood spilled into the room. Ginny finally stood next to Harry with her wand positioned, leaving Neville and the three Ravenclaws to themselves.  
  
The thick red juice was now up to their waist, but they remained standing, with determined looks in all their eyes. Draco shouted out an order and Brooke fell into the flood, taking her away from him, letting go of their firm grasp. Draco's heart clenched but soon reminded himself it was for the best. The bloody liquid now to his shoulder, was rapidly rising. Suddenly, Harry let out a scream but it wasn't he who fell in, it was Ginny, lost in the high waves. With both girls gone the water tuned a deeper red, almost black. Then Ron shook his head in rage and bellowed: "we've almost got it" as Hermione silently sank away.  
  
The flood was now to the remaining boys chins, Draco turned around to find Neville just sink away, but the three Ravenclaws were no where in sight anymore. Ron, Harry and Draco struggled to remain standing as the dark blood reached their eyes but fell together at once. Draco felt his lungs squeezing, fighting for breath. He gave up, unwillingly and hit the floor. Every bit of the skin on his body burned as he let himself give up.  
  
Just as he thought all was over he took in a wonderful breath of air. Choking, he sat up and gazed around; Harry and Ron were just as surprised, as he was to be living. It seemed the water had vanished completely. Just as Draco was going to smile in triumph, something caught his eye.  
  
Brooke, laid on the stone tile, curled up in a heap, her hair covering her face. She wasn't moving; she had died along with Hermione and Ginny. Draco crawled to Brooke's side, still worn down from nearly drowning. He let a tear fall from his glassy, gray eyes and lay over her, holding her. He sobbed uncontrollably onto Brooke until he started to choke up blood.  
  
***  
  
Draco shot up from his bed in a hot but chilling sweat. He panicked, looking around the room, forgetting where he was. Then his ears started to ring and his vision became blurry as blood came dribbling from his throat and onto his bed sheets.  
  
................................ Okay guys, that's it so far. I hope you're all enjoying this as much as I am...don't worry too much about Draco's dream; you'll understand it later on. If you have been reading my fan fic then please leave a note telling me how you feel about it. Even just one word would make me happy, just so I know your reading it. I write for readers and if I don't think I have any then what's the point in writing? Please leave a comment, even if its criticism. Thank you. 


	3. Bonding

Chapter 3.  
  
Brooke awkwardly rose from her warm bed. The sun was shinning through the thick material, which hung over the slightly cracked window. Quickly, Brooke looked at the small watch around her wrist.  
  
"Bloody Hell!" She was late to breakfast on the first day of school. Calculating that by the time she took her shower and gotten dressed she'd just make it to her fist class, Potions with Professor Snape.  
  
Brooke bounded over to her still-packed suitcase, ripped it open, grabbed her vanilla shampoo and conditioner, then rounded for the door, only to turn back around again for her forgotten robe. When she opened her door to the common room it was deserted, just as she'd guessed. Before dodging down the steps to the exit, she looked the common room over, trying to get used to the fact that this would be her home for a very long time. She wished badly that she had a friend, just as she wished she were in Slytherin, where she thought she'd fit in.  
  
Out of the portrait hole Brooke had went and down the hallway until she arrived at the bathrooms. She scurried inside, without having time to look around, and into a shower stall.  
  
As she was shampooing her long, dirty blond hair she had a horrible thought. 'Everyone probably hates me because of my sister.' Then she pondered even more, forgetting to apply conditioner, 'What if all the guys think I'm easy like her?' She forced herself to stop thinking these things, telling herself that she's acting silly, she's her own person and that's what the others have always thought.  
  
When Brooke finished washing down her body she tuned the water on cold, hoping it would wake her up, then stepped out. She wanted to go back to her own room to apply make-up and change so she wrapped her dark green robe around herself, shivering because it only came to her high leg, which left very visible skin. She looked around for a towel to sop up her hair but didn't see one so she left it down, soaking wet.  
  
With one quick look in the mirror Brooke set off down the hall, back to her room. As soon as she had left she saw a boy also walking down the hall, behind her. She stopped in her tracks as the boy lifted his eyebrows at her sight, then walked quickly closer. She recognized who it was right away, the boy she told off after dinner yesterday, Draco Malfoy. He looked as if he expected to see her there, in the deserted hall, leaving the bathrooms, in only a small robe.  
  
Draco came next to Brooke, he had been walking around the school aimlessly. He wasn't hungry because of his terrible dream the other night, it had left him shaken and confused. What's more confusing to him now, was the fact he ran into Brooke-the girl he dreamt about last night-in her muggle bath robe looking very beautiful and very wet.  
  
"Well well, Miss. Parkinson" Draco said with more than a hint of arrogance, noticing her shivering. "Are you trying to attract attention from your first year boys in the halls or are you just going for the world record of freezing you ass off?"  
  
"Please Malfoy, I have to get back to my room before class starts, I don't have time for your pathetic one-liners." Brooke started away.  
  
"And what would you call that?" Draco said making reference to Brooke's own "one-liner".  
  
"Listen you little-" but she was cut off. Footsteps of about forty students walking to class just around the corner could be defiantly heard. Alarmed and trying to cover herself up better, Brooke stared at where the noise was coming from, then over to Draco, both were wide eyed. Draco wrapped his arm around Brooke's waist and leaned his body forward, against hers, pushing her backwards. Brooke tried to stop him in protest but then realized what he was trying to do; he wanted to shove her into a small, shadowy, alcove in the wall to hide her.  
  
They both hardly fit; they were pushed up against each other, face to face. Brooke began to breathe hard; she hated being so tightly squished in a small place, wearing only her robe, pressed against a very good-looking boy, and uncontrollably shivering. She looked up at Draco's dramatically gray eyes and down to his pink lips as he tried to shush her. She wanted nothing more then to kiss the hell out of him, to wipe that smug off his proud face.  
  
Draco felt uncomfortable too, but didn't show it so obviously like Brooke had. He could feel her breathe against him, breasts pressed hard then soft against his chest, the breasts that he shamefully had thought about before he went to bed yesterday night. It took him much energy and self-control to hold himself down, if she had felt him rising the slightest bit he wouldn't have been able to look at her strait without thinking he was a complete idiot.  
  
Then, Draco looked at Brooke's purple, shivering lips and did something impulsive. Before stopping himself, he rubbed her arms, massaging them hard, trying to make her warm, to stop her from chattering those perfect lips. 'Crap, her lips! Don't look at them, don't look! They're so soft looking, light purple; STOP LOOKING!' Brooke drew in a steady breath and turned tense, but after a while relaxed, knowing-feeling-this was right. Brooke felt much better and warmer at his touch and didn't want him to stop.  
  
"Brooke I-"  
  
"Shhhhhh!" Brooke shook her head, her eyes closed, she just wanted to focus on his fingers, rubbing her arm. She felt herself go slightly numb in the knees, concentrating on Draco's body heat ripple against her; warming her.  
  
"Brooke I- I think you can stop having an emotional orgasm, the coast is clear." Draco continued feeling up the shapely girl's arms, now at her shoulders. He looked at her closed eyes and breathed in her soapy scent. Brooke fluttered her eyes to look into Draco's once again, ('those eyes could kill you') she opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, she just nudged out of the small alcove and down the hall, to her room; leaving Draco to himself.  
  
Brooke hurried away, she felt faint and lightheaded. Draco really was gorgeous! She couldn't believe what had happened in that small dark space inside the wall. She turned her head back but there was not a sign of Draco and his tall body. Then Brooke remembered she was supposed to be in potions class this very second and ran to her room.  
  
Draco stayed quite still in the small alcove after Brooke had left. He tried to calm himself down and go over what had just happened. It wasn't much, but the contact Brooke made with him in the last minutes, was just amazing. He could still smell her hair, feel her breasts against him (rising and falling), see her golden eyes. Draco decided then, that he wanted to stay in a moment like that forever-almost-. His arrogance got the better of him, his Slytherin side had shown through and he tossed the moment far back in his mind, as if it were a mistake he always made.  
  
"Just a nothing little Gryffindor."  
  
***  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked through the halls together to their first period class.  
  
"So Harry, how was your summer? Has your cousin Dudley been bothering you?" Ron asked Harry.  
  
"No; he's been alright, doesn't talk to me too much. My aunt and uncle also try to pretend I'm not there." Harry looked at Ron but a girl behind him stole his gaze. It was Cho Chang.  
  
Harry still found her very attractive even though she didn't feel the same for him. She had her hair pin-strait with a small glittery clasp in it. Her eyes were surrounded by light blue powder and her lips were a shade darker then usual, he noticed as she smiled his way.  
  
Cho took a large step closer to Harry. He could smell her now, like cinnamon. Cho giggled, "Well Harry I can see you haven't changed."  
  
Her remark made Harry feel a little bitter, "How would you know?"  
  
"You still give me that look whenever you see me. As if we have something together!" Cho rolled her black eyes and waited to hear Harry's response but he just tuned his back and strode away. 'That girl is such a little bitch! She's got the looks but I swear her mouth ruins everything.'  
  
"Harry don't look so glum, I see your girlfriend coming. Make up with her, why not?" Hermione always knew what Harry should do, but Harry wasn't always to enthusiastic about actually doing it.  
  
"Easier said then done." Harry gave Hermione a warm smile. "Girls are a pure mystery!" Ron nodded in silent agreement.  
  
"Oh, and you think boys are any better?" Harry tuned around behind him to the voice, belonging to Ginny. She had a questioning mark lingering on her face that made him uneasy. He turned his head back for Ron and Hermionies' help but they had left. He could take on Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard in the world but when he came face to face with an upset girl, he lost most of his golden bravery.  
  
"Ginny I'm so sorry about the other night, I didn't mean to leave you." Harry reached for Ginny's hand thinking she'd pull away; she didn't and more courage came back to him. "Please Ginny, I didn't want you to cry over this, I didn't think. You have to stay with me, I need you to stay with me." Harry fumbled for words; he wasn't used to apologies.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes and gave a sweet smile. "Don't strain yourself, just give me a hug." Not one second went by after Ginny had said that, Harry pulled her fast in his arms. Ginny ruffled his untamed, raven hair. She loved holding him, he felt protective and warm.  
  
"I missed this." Ginny heard Harry say under his breath and she held him tighter, closing her eyes to let a tear fall. Harry rocked her slightly, noticing a small warm drop fall to his robe, then through, to his skin.  
  
The bell for class sounded, Ginny pulled away from Harry against her own will, immediately wishing she hadn't, losing his warmth. Another single tear ran down Ginny's cheek. Harry reached out a hand and wiped it with his thumb. He bent lower and kissed her small lips lightly, touching just the outer smooth skin.  
  
"I missed that." Ginny said with a playful smile, forgetting her tears and walked to class.  
  
Harry felt so content. 'Everything's fine, I still have Ginny, just like I should, it's meant to be.' Harry waited for Ginny to disappear behind her classroom door before he turned to leave, knowing he'd be late but didn't care; he's with Ginny.  
  
As Harry made his way to Transfiguration he thought he saw a girl out of the corner of his eye running for the Gryffindor portrait. She was in a dark green robe and he could just make out her face, even though she was moving very fast (he is a seeker after all). If he didn't know better, he would have thought she looked a bit like Malfoy. He laughed the comment from his mind, 'Malfoy, running for the Gryffindor room? Anyone could see it was Brooke.'  
  
***  
  
Hermione stole Ron's hand and pulled him down the hall when Ginny came, thinking Harry needed to apologize without their help. She thought she pulled Ron a bit too hard and fast because he gave a 'Oof' sound.  
  
"Hermione, I like my arm, don't take it away from me." Ron said as he was being practically dragged down the hall; a hall that seemed very out of the way from their first class. "Where are you taking me?"  
  
"Oh shush up Ron!" Hermione said looking back. She just loved the expressions Ron makes with his face, especially when he looked confused. 'It just all wrinkles up and his sweet little eyes glitter.'  
  
When they reached Hermione's designated point she wiped Ron around against the wall and put her hands on either side of his head. The room was dim with only one window, Hermione had to go through many passages with passwords and locked doors, taking up a lot of her time just to get to this dirty tower.  
  
"What are you doing my dear?" Ron smirked. He loved when his girlfriend took some control, but he knew after a minute it would be her against the wall with him on the outside leaning in.  
  
"Shut your mouth Ron, it will be hard to kiss you with it jabbering away." With that Hermione leaned in to meet his warm lips. She felt him shudder against her body as he pulled her small waist close to his. Hermione pulled her hands from the cold, stone wall and spread one in his soft hair, the other on his hip.  
  
Ron licked her lips, asking politely for an entrance, at which Hermione was more then happy to oblige. Her heart began to beat a faster pattern as their tongues glided along each other. Ron tasted sweet, like he had an orange for breakfast. He pushed forward then turned her softly around so she was between the wall and himself. Hermione smiled into his lips and continued.  
  
The bell sounded for their first class to begin and Hermione pulled away so suddenly.  
  
"Oh no Ron, we're late to our first class!" She acted as if this was going to get her expelled. Ron rolled his eyes and followed Hermione back to class, cursing the extremely loud bell.  
  
Hermione tuned to face Ron as they came to the hall leading to their class. She saw his hair was messed up, his lips red and slightly larger then normal. His face looked like he could have cried, it was very depressing.  
  
"That, Ron, is by far my favorite face I've ever seen on you!" Hermione smiled.  
  
"What, you like the look of me when I'm upset because you stopped right in the middle of us snogging to get to a bloody class?"  
  
"Of course." Hermione kissed Ron's cheek and continued pulling him to class. "And that's no reason to curse!"  
  
When they reached the door, they were met by Harry.  
  
"Hello Hermione; Ron." Harry said, looking Ron up and down, taking notice of his messy hair and pink face. "And why are you both late; together?"  
  
Hermione giggled, "I could ask you the same question." The three friends jumped when the classroom door swung open, Professor McGonagal's face peering out.  
  
"You're late!" The Professor stared at the tardy teenagers and opened the large door wider. She pointed to three seats in the front row. "That's fifteen points from Gryffindor." The three walked to their seats silently with their heads hung down. "Just a fine way to start the school year!"  
  
When they were finally sitting and class started, Hermione looked like she was about to cry. Ron held her hand under the table, feeling guilty.  
  
***  
  
Brooke reached the door to her first class. She was ten minutes late and became nervous because the teacher's voice on the other side of the door could be heard with a loud, greasy voice. She slowly turned the handle and walked to an empty seat.  
  
The Professor's back was turned from the class 'thank god!' Brooke figured she'd quickly sneak to her chair.  
  
"Mrs. Parkinson." Snape called over his shoulder, still with his back turned.  
  
"Yes, Sir?" Brooke made sure her voice was loud and didn't shake.  
  
Snape turned to stare her in the eye, "Your in Gryffindor, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, Sir." Brooke repeated.  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong but are you not fifteen?"  
  
"Yes, Sir." She could tell she wasn't going to like this Professor much.  
  
"So you are fifteen but in a first year class?" Snape gave a smirk, showing crooked teeth.  
  
"I am, Sir." She felt she needed a change from saying 'yes'.  
  
"Could you tell me how that came about?" He held some sort of superior air as he spoke ('much like that Malfoy boy').  
  
"Yes, Sir I could certainly tell you, but right now I'd like to learn potions. That is why we are here Professor, right?" Brooke knew she shouldn't have said that, she was fighting with a bull.  
  
"That's twenty points for you being late and another twenty for mouthing off. I suggest you shut your mouth before you take away even more points, not to mention take away any chance of you actually having friends." Snape turned his back away to continue writing on the board.  
  
Brooke retorted under her breath, "Like I would want to be friends with these narrow-minded idiots."  
  
A few other students who overheard, gave a death stare. She didn't think Snape heard even though he turned around again to watch her as she took her seat, then he continued.  
  
All Brooke could think about was next class, Divination with Professor Trelawney and her other sixth year classmates.  
  
***  
  
The students piled up the long staircase to a high tower, the Divination classroom. Brooke was the last one there since it took her forever to find her way, this class was on the other side of the building and very far from the rest of the school.  
  
When she pushed the latch to the door upwards her eyes met with Harry's right away. She smiled until she saw a red haired boy who just looked so familiar, sitting next to him.  
  
Harry waved Brooke over and motioned to the seat on the other side of him at the round table. Brooke nodded yes and took the seat.  
  
"I thought you were a first year?" Was the question that spilled out of his mouth right away, instead of 'Oh, it's nice to see you.'  
  
"I excel in Divination; I have a gift for it. Professor Dumbledore let me in this class just to see how I'd do." Brooke smiled at Harry's impressed face.  
  
"I hate this class, I really don't believe in it." Harry sighed, "Maybe you'd be able to help me 'discover the un-known'." Harry rolled his eyes. "I guarantee when Professor Trelawney enters this class that after five minutes, she will make a remark on how I'm going to die at a such a terribly young age."  
  
"Really? Let me see your hand." Brooke didn't wait for him to oblige; she lifted his arm off his books and spread his palm.  
  
"Oh no, your not all psycho about that too, are you?" Harry shook his head. He then, got a small sensation through his arm as she gently ran her fingers over his palm. She started to massage his knuckles and then lifted his hand close to her eyes, studying it closely.  
  
"Oh no Harry, this is very disturbing, you are going to be killed, just like this Professor said." Brooke looked at Harry with complete horror on her face. She held his hand tightly as if he were going to die right then.  
  
"This is silly." Harry said starting to feel irritable. "I am not going to die anytime soon."  
  
Brooke laughed, "Of course your not! You are going to be killed though."  
  
"What?" Harry pulled his hand out of her grasp.  
  
"You heard me, you're going to be killed." Brooke said matter-of-factly, taking his hand back.  
  
"Is that not the same thing?"  
  
"It's totally different Harry! Just because I said that your going to be killed doesn't always mean you're going to physically die." Harry looked bewildered. "Harry your going to die emotionally, very soon. Usually when someone dies emotionally it has to do with love. Whoever you have strong feelings for is going to leave you and you'll be heart broken."  
  
"I'm not in love with anyone." Harry felt the need to argue a bit.  
  
"There is always time for love!" Brooke gave Harry a simple hug. "Don't worry Harry; it's just the future."  
  
"Ha, 'just the future'?" It was Brooke's turn to give a misunderstood expression. "The future is everything!"  
  
"I guess it is everything, but you can always change the future. I mean if you don't want to be heart broken then make sure you don't fall in love."  
  
'She makes it sound so simple.'  
  
There was a small puff behind Brooke and a tall older-looking lady appeared. She wore long colorful robes, many silver bracelets, and had glasses that made her eyes look three times larger.  
  
"Hello children." Professor Trelawney said with a dramatic tone. "This is your Divination class. We will be seeking knowledge by supernatural means. We will use the methods of attempting to foretell the future. We will discover the unknown through omens, oracles, and supernatural powers." Professor Trelawney spoke starting soft but gradually getting louder by her last sentence.  
  
"Some of you in here are gifted as I am with premonition, a feeling of foreboding about something that is going to happen." She looked down and the students and stopped on Brooke. "You my dear, you are a fortune Seer." She let her eyes wander to Harry sitting next to her. "Oh poor boy, your time is soon to come." Harry nudged Brooke, indicating that he knew she'd make a remark like that to him.  
  
"You will all need to partner into groups of three for our next lesson; don't worry Seamus it doesn't include a crystal ball." Seamus seemed jumbled. "And Neville, dear don't worry you don't have a group, I'll work with you. Okay now, find partners."  
  
Harry and Ron partnered up together then Ron turned to Brooke. "Do you mind working with us? I mean we're not very good at this but we'd like your help." Brooke grinned.  
  
"I'd love to." Was all she said.  
  
"Alright now that we are into groups; well all except for Mr. Longbottom, we will be experimenting on a new unit, telepathy. Telepathy is communication directly from one person's mind to another's without speech, writing, or any other signs or symbols." Ron and Harry groaned. "Ron, this is of course not 'fiddlesticks' otherwise how would I have known you thought so?" Ron hung his mouth open.  
  
"To have this physic communication you must have a spiritual bond with the person you do it with. If you don't have a bond it certainly won't work." The Professor smiled. "One of you will have to think of one thing and concentrate on it while another will try to see what it is your thinking. The reason I put you into groups of three is so there will be a better chance to have a connection with at least one group member. Good luck."  
  
"All right then, who's starting?" Ron turned to his group.  
  
"Why don't both of you start?" Said Brooke to Harry and Ron. "You're both friends so it will be more likely for you to have a bond."  
  
"Okay, so what exactly do we even do?" Harry asked.  
  
"Just look at each other, eye to eye. The 'Seer' should concentrate very hard on the other person who will be relaxed, letting their mind think of what it wishes to."  
  
"I'm just warning you now, it will never work." Ron declared, facing Harry. "I'll try and see what it is you're thinking."  
  
"Give it a shot, enter my brain." Harry said sarcastically.  
  
Ron and Harry sat, starring at each other deeply for very long minutes. After a while Ron began to squint, trying to get a 'deeper look' at Harry, but nothing happened.  
  
"As far as I can tell Harry, if I'm doing this rubbish correctly, your brain is a full load of nothing." Said Ron with a smirk.  
  
"For your information, my mind is just too complicated for you to see." Harry snickered. "There happens to be a whole lot going inside of me that you would never know."  
  
"Is that so?" Brooke said, finally being part of the conversation. "Do you mind then if I take a peak at your 'complicated brain'?"  
  
Harry tuned to face Brooke. "Just try."  
  
Brooke tilted her head down a bit so their eyes were parallel. It took her a minute or so to get over the beauty of green gazing back at her. She focused more on his dark pupils, reflecting her face. Brooke felt her thoughts being pushed from her and new fresh words jumped in place, sounding very much like an echo of Harry. 'I'm sorry.I didn't mean to.I didn't know you would be so angry.Please forgive me.We were meant to be together.The way it should be.'  
  
Brooke wondered whom it could be Harry was thinking about, was it a girlfriend? Then Ron made a funny face in imitation of Brooke, on the other side of Harry. He was hanging his mouth wide open and bringing his eyebrows far up to enlarge his eyes. Brooke leaned over Harry and playfully smacked Ron on the shoulder, now having an even stronger, more precise connection with Harry. 'She's leaning over me.Oh Merlin her boobs are touching me.she's beautiful' Brooke scurried back to her seat to look like the imitation Ron had made of her. She tried hard to listen to Harry's thoughts again but they had vanished, probably because of the shock she had just gone through.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked. "You didn't hear anything did you?"  
  
"Harry, I certainly did hear something." Brooke grinned. "You really do have a complicated brain."  
  
Professor Trelawney took a long glide towards Brooke and Harry. "I understand that you both have made the connection, dears?"  
  
"Yes, I heard some of his thoughts." Brooke replied.  
  
"That is outstanding, both of you." The Divination teacher said in her dramatic tone. "Would you mind if you came to my classroom after classes and you can try again?"  
  
"Why would we do THAT?" Harry asked as if it were the stupidest idea ever.  
  
"Mr. Potter, it has never happened before in my years of teaching for students to have at least a connection on their first time. I think it is truly remarkable for Brooke to be seeing into your mind and we should practice this."  
  
"Well I don't feel it has anything to do with me, I mean, I'm sure Brooke can have a connection with anyone she likes." Said Harry.  
  
"No, no dear. To see into another's mind is a spiritual bond that you both clearly share. To have done this on the first try however, shows that you're connected in such a way that your spirits are inseparable; very rare." Trelawney put each hand on Harry and Brooke's shoulder as a congratulation. "I'll give you an hour after dinner and I expect you in this room." She swept off before either teenager could argue.  
  
"Well Harry, it looks like I'll be seeing you here after dinner." Brooke said packing up her things.  
  
"Yeah, guess so." Harry replied glumly.  
  
The bell rang again and the sixth years piled out of the small door, downstairs.  
  
***  
  
Okay guys and girls, that's chapter three. Tell me if you liked it and why. If you didn't enjoy it then give some constructive criticism.emphasize the word constructive. I hope to get more reviews then I have been receiving! Glad you've read :)  
  
Chelsea Taylor 


	4. Her Lightening and His Thunder

"Well Harry, it looks like I'll be seeing you here after dinner." Brooke said packing up her things.  
  
"Yeah, guess so." Harry replied glumly.  
  
The bell rang again and the sixth years piled out of the small door, downstairs.  
  
Chapter 4.  
  
Lunch for Brooke turned out to be as bad as her first dinner yesterday. She felt very much out of place and not one person said a word to her all day unless it was discouraging. She sat facing the Slytherin table and for just a second caught Draco Malfoy's eye before he snapped his head around and focused on her sister, Pansy.  
  
Brooke loathed her sister ever since that pivotal moment in her life when they had to make the choice of living with either their mother or father. Both she and Pansy desperately wanted to stay in their mansion with Parthenia, but Pansy (being older) had her way and Brooke was left to live with her father, Blake Parkinson. She was able to see her sister once in a while, in that time they had a sort of friendship but it was hard to act like sisters when they didn't even live together.  
  
Brooke had such high expectations of going to Hogwarts and finally leaving her father. She wouldn't have believed she'd rather have been at his house eating by herself then sitting at an overly full table with no one to talk to.  
  
***  
  
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Brooke and Harry. They soon found themselves leaving the Great Hall, full from a great meal and pumpkin juice.  
  
Harry set strait for his dormitory so he could start some homework before going to Trelawney's room. He kept glancing at the clock every three minutes to see how much time he had left. Harry couldn't wait for the moment to be with Brooke but at the same time he never would have wanted to be with her and a Professor he despised all at once, it was all too overwhelming.  
  
The clock finally struck seven o'clock at the same time Harry stood in front of Dean Thomas's mirror. His hair was sticking up all around at scattered angles, his cheeks were flushed light pinks, and his robes fit tightly around his shoulders making him look rather muscular than truth. He took out his wand and muttered a fixing charm to straighten his hair with obviously, no luck. Harry rolled his eyes at the attempt and made his way to the stairs, finding Brooke waiting for him at the Portrait Hole.  
  
She tied her hair into an elegant loose braid, letting strands of white- yellow fall over her eyes and ears. She didn't wear much make up besides a dark gray eye-shadow at the corners and ends of her lashes and a tinted lip- gloss. She had changed out of the black school robes and was now showing off a dark blue robe made of cotton. She looked absolutely perfect to Harry.  
  
"Ready, Harry?" Brooke asked, taking in his boyish, messy hair when he made it down the stairs.  
  
"Hullo-er-yeah, ready." Harry laughed nervously. 'Great Potter, you're a ruddy idiot.'  
  
It was a long walk in silence to the tower. Harry was thankful of not talking because his tongue didn't seem to cooperate around this girl. Occasionally, they'd bump arms and brush robes while Harry would curse at himself for being so stupid as to notice they were touching. They made it up to the classroom finally and sat down beside each other at a table.  
  
"I wonder where Trelawney is?" Said Brooke.  
  
"Maybe she won't show!" Harry said a little too enthusiastically.  
  
The room's stench was full of old perfume, the fire was for the first time only embers in a pit of ash, the church-looking window was open an inch, letting the sound of drizzling rain into the room; accompanied with a roar of thunder. Brooke gasped and started to fidget.  
  
"What is it Brooke?" Harry questioned.  
  
"I'm uh, kinda-er, scared of the thunder." Brooke said, biting her lip once again. Another crash of thunder sounded and Brooke let out a quick scream.  
  
"Ha ha, you're scared of a bit of thunder?" Harry made it sound as if she were terrified of a flower. "It's not going to hurt you!"  
  
"Gee Harry, thanks for all your support." Brooke said sarcastically.  
  
"Of all people! You're really frightened?" Harry thought her to be the bravest girl he'd ever met.  
  
"Of course not, I just feel like screaming!" Brooke said with another load of sarcasm. "Yes I really am frightened! I've always been afraid." Harry made eye contact with her now. "Ever since I was little I've been afraid."  
  
Harry thought about when he was younger at Privet Drive on stormy evenings in the cupboard. He was frightened then too.  
  
"I was scared when I was little, but not anymore." Harry said.  
  
"Well I still am." Brooke crossed her arms and looked away, taking a fair impression of an upset toddler; until another blast of thunder made her jump close to Harry, who fought to hold back giggles. "It's not funny Harry!"  
  
"I'm sorry Brooke, really." Harry stopped his laughing and turned very serious.  
  
"I was afraid when I was younger, so I'd leave my room to find my father in his bed; only he wasn't ever there." Brooke confessed to bright green, concentrating eyes.  
  
"Why wasn't he there?" Harry became very interested in this girl, very fast.  
  
"He-he's never there, work you know."  
  
"Oh, well-er-I see." Harry suddenly became very self-conscious when he noticed how close Brooke was and how she's staring at him. "You know, I didn't have anyone to go to either when I was little."  
  
"You didn't?" Brooke became curious.  
  
"No, I didn't. You know my parents are dead-" Harry started.  
  
"Yes but, don't you live with your aunt and uncle?" Cut in Brooke.  
  
"Yeah, and that's fine besides the simple fact that they don't give a shit about me and I lived in a cupboard most of the time." Harry didn't want sympathy from Brooke; he didn't need it. He wanted her to know that he understood how she feels about not having someone.  
  
"I'm sorry." Brooke was amazed that this cute boy was telling her about this.  
  
"Oh, I don't mind; they're not my real parents-I know they loved me." Harry bit his tongue after these words.  
  
"That must be great, I don't think my father lo-" Brooke stopped short to take in a quick amount of air when another crack of thunder sounded.  
  
Harry lightly laughed. "It doesn't look like Trelawney's going to show; we'd better get going before you wet your pants."  
  
Brooke elbowed Harry in the ribs and stood up, leading the way out to the narrow stairs. As the teenagers were more than halfway to their Common Room, Harry had an idea. He grabbed Brook's fidgeting hand. "Do you want to see something? It will help you get over your fear of thunder." Harry didn't wait for her answer; he just whipped her around another passageway, smiling.  
  
"Where are we going, Potter?" This wasn't a good sign (Harry thought) when girls called him 'Potter'.  
  
"Trust me Parkinson, you'll see." It seemed to Brooke that they were going the exact same way they had just come from when Harry stopped in front of two familiar, huge, oak doors.  
  
"THE GREAT HALL?!! Potter, this is ridiculous! I'm going to bed." Brooke couldn't believe this boy; he was good looking and all, but to bring her all the way to a place she's already been to four times was just plain annoying.  
  
"Brooke c'mon, please...just go inside for one minute." Harry begged to the back of Brooke's head.  
  
Brooke spun around to face the pleading, almost pathetic looking boy. "Alriiight, but I'm tired; today didn't turn out much better than yesterday." Brooke thought she sounded just as pathetic as Harry looked. "Just hurry it up!"  
  
"Okay, okay." Harry said in a hush-full voice. He opened one of the doors but stopped Brooke from entering. "Close your eyes."  
  
"I KNOW WHAT THE BLOODY HALL LOOKS LIKE!" Brooke didn't know if she was acting ruder than Harry was acting stupid.  
  
Harry stood behind Brooke and forced his hands over each of her eyes. "I guess you chose the hard way." Brooke struggled against Harry's arms but he was obviously stronger, plus she didn't mind being so close to him as much as she let on. "Walk straight and be careful." Brooke did as she was told but tripped anyway on Harry's feet, which were too close to hers. They fell with an 'oof!' Harry was lying on top of Brooke's back and seeing himself in this position turned his face red as he clambered to his feet.  
  
Brooke rubbed her elbow as Harry helped her up. "Your just ruddy brilliant Potter!" She loved using sarcasm on Harry; it made her feel even more superior to him. Brooke expected Harry to rush back with at least an insult but he was too busy looking straight up.  
  
Brooke followed Harry's gaze to the enchanted ceiling. There was a foggy silver mist so low, Brooke thought she could reach out and scoop the thin cloud in her hands to use as a pillow. Beyond the glittering silver, a stunning purple swirled with emerald sky shown through, with white dots as stars looking like holes in the blanket. For the first time the stars seemed to be the imperfections in the sky, instead of the beauty. Streaks of dark blue rain and hail streamed across the stars; stopping before the fog.  
  
"It's absolutely beautiful." Harry whispered, speaking Brooke's thoughts. "Look!" Harry pointed to the corner of the ceiling at the same time a lightening blot flashed momentarily through the sparkling picture. "I remember the time when it stormed here and I came down for dinner; I couldn't believe my eyes it was so perfect." Harry looked eye level with Brooke. "I wanted you to see it for yourself."  
  
Brooke gasped. "Thank you Harry." A burst of thunder roared; yet Brooke didn't cower, she simply smiled and hugged Harry.  
  
Harry leaned down to Brooke's ear and whispered, "Anytime Brooke." A second gust of thunder and Harry just held Brooke tighter; "I'll be here for you." Then the dark blue raindrops slowly turned to a blistering red...although the teenagers hadn't noticed.  
  
***  
  
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Draco's hard, gelled hair was falling tragically around his face and his thick robes were askew. "Don't you understand? It's over!"  
  
Pansy Parkinson wasn't yet convinced. She didn't want to believe that Draco was so heartless last year to just use her or that it really was over. "Please Draco, just tell me what I did wrong!" She felt hot tears pool in her eyes but wouldn't sink to the level of actually letting them past her mascaraed lashes.  
  
Draco's head began to pound. "You didn't do anything wrong, that's the point! You couldn't have done anything wrong because you were 'wrong' to begin with." He wasn't too sure if her stupid brain would understand him; then again he wasn't sure he understood himself. "Just forget it Pansy, it's not going to happen again."  
  
"Then why the hell did you tell me to come to your room tonight, huh Draco? Why did you say 'Pansy, tonight I need you here with me' in your sexy little voice after dinner? WHY'D YOU SAY IT?" Pansy had given up, letting her tears fall to her pale cheeks while a few to her lips and into her yelling mouth.  
  
"I felt bad for you OKAY? I felt bad because you had spent the whole fucking day staring at me, waiting for me to talk to you. I figured I could just do it tonight and get it out of the way." Draco advanced on the cowering girl across the room. "When you walked in I just had a change of heart, that's all."  
  
"You're HORRIBLE Draco, ya'know that?" Pansy hiccuped, "Just because you don't have feelings for me doesn't mean I don't have any for you." She regretted the words as soon as she had spoken them. "What the hell was this 'change of heart' crap? What, did you get a good look at me and wished you had never invited me here after all?"  
  
Although Draco was a Slytherin, not to even mention a Malfoy, he felt sorry for Pansy; he didn't actually think she felt so strongly for him. "That's not what I thought." He bent down to Pansy's lips and smothered them with his own, mentally throwing up. "You're not that bad."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Can't we forget about this? C'mon, my bed is open." Draco let out a wicked grin; he was an extremely well actor.  
  
Pansy broke her face into an ugly smile. "I know you wanted it all along."  
  
Draco bit his tongue not to argue again and led the way to his black sheets; head hung low.  
  
***  
  
"What's the occasion?" Ron asked when Hermione came waltzing down the stairs wearing her hair in a loose, messy ponytail and in the same school robes she wore all day.  
  
"Huh, what do you mean?" Hermione looked down at herself and didn't notice anything special about her.  
  
"Your stunning, 'Mione." Said Ron in all seriousness.  
  
Hermione suppressed a giggle and sat on Ron's lap on a comfy, scarlet couch in the Common Room. "I look a mess."  
  
"Not at all." Ron knew he was trying to butter her up, trying in vain to repeat what had happened after breakfast.  
  
"Forget it, Ron!" Hermione knew what he was getting at and didn't feel like egging him on tonight. She took hold of a beaded, show pillow beside her and smacked him with it on the back of his head.  
  
"Oy! That's it!" Ron pushed her off his lap and onto the couch. He fixed himself so that he would lie on top of her. "You have it your way then, you look absolutely frightening!" Ron had a mischievous gleam in his eyes to show her he was only joking.  
  
"Well Ron, I didn't want to say anything but you're so ugly I could smother you in kisses right now." With that, Ron bent his neck down. "I said I COULD but I don't think I am." His face turned to slight despair.  
  
"Girls!" Ron sat back up in cue with Hermione. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"I don't want anything from you at the moment." Snickered Hermione. "Look outside its raining cats and dogs!"  
  
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Said Ron. "It couldn't possibly be raining dogs and cats."  
  
"It's a Muggle term, Ron. Honestly, you couldn't have figured that out for yourself?" Hermione rolled her brown eyes. She never would admit it, but she thought it was very cute how Ron was so dense.  
  
"Sooorryyy! Geez, cant you just be a nice little girlfriend for once?" Ron pleaded.  
  
"Nah, where's the fun in that?" Hermione never had so much fun when she just talks with Ron, well, other than doing other things with him.  
  
"I'll give you fun." Ron put her in the same position on the couch with him on top. This time, however, he got what he wanted, and he was more then pleased to receive it.  
  
***  
  
Okaayyy guys, that's it. I decided to make this chapter fluffy and I have to admit I enjoyed it being that way. What do you think of Brooke and Harry? Are they a good couple or would you prefer him with Ginny? What about Draco? I feel bad for Pansy but I don't think I could keep them together, they just don't work. I don't think I'll change Ron and Hermione...they're so cute:-)  
  
Silver- Thank you so much for reviewing, it was most helpful. I hope you'll leave another review. Please.  
  
Janet- Of course! Ha ha. Thanks for reviewing and reading all this; you're a great girl. Review again.  
  
Pryscilla- Love you hun! Review again please and keep writing fanfic.  
  
If you have read my story I will be thoroughly upset at you if you don't review...even constructive criticism.  
  
ChelseaTaylor 


	5. Friends?

Author's note: Ginny is going to be it this chapter and I don't want you to think she looks as she does in the movies because in my opinion, she's not too attractive. So please just picture her the way I describe her...she should be pretty.  
  
Chapter 5.  
  
He felt warm and sticky coming out of another dreamless sleep. His room was a dim pink from a sunrise through his window. He made a delicate move out of heavy sheets, but froze when a slight, aggravated moan sounded in his left ear.  
  
Draco Malfoy had given in to Pansy 'Pathetic' Parkinson last night. He had given her what she begged for more willingly then he wished...he was a guy after all. Pansy continued to hotly breathe onto Draco's perfect face, causing him to lurch towards the bathroom; totally disgusted. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the girl remained sleeping.  
  
Pansy lay there, looking almost beautiful. Her hair was a bleached blond, scattered over his pillow and a few small, wispy ones sweated to her face. Draco knew Pansy's hair was only half blond, like her sisters, because he remembered it being that way since third year, since they started having 'fun' together. Her lips were slightly open, a deep sore red, and swollen. Draco highly preferred it when her mouth wasn't jabbering away or sucking on his own lips-or anything else of Dracos' for that matter. Pansy really wasn't that bad looking; she had to be one of the prettiest girls in Slytherin...although that isn't saying much.  
  
Draco turned on his heel to the washroom, bored of staring at Pansy. He relived himself and then turned on the water for a shower. He didn't have any clothes to take off so he just took a step into the freezing water. One thing about Draco was he hated hot showers, they made his skin red and sort of steam. His cold showers on the other hand, re-energized him, made his skin cool down and refresh, made his eyes open to start the day. Draco took a large bar of soap that smelled of citrus and began to rinse off last night's waste from Pansy and himself.  
  
Minutes passed as Draco succeeded to wash his hair three times and condition it twice, his usual ordeal. He came from the shower shivering and wiping of cold droplets. He tiptoed back to his room and found Pansy exactly where he had left her, sprawled lazily across his bed.  
  
Draco opened his dark wood drawer and put on his silk, black boxers (like every other pair he had) and his school robes. He never bothered with cologne; the sent from the soap he used always stayed on him. He attached his silver watch onto his wrist and was shocked at the time: he an another hour and a half until breakfast. Draco thought of going back to bed for a second when he remembered Pansy was still annoyingly breathing there.  
  
Draco looked out his extended widow to meet eyes with an inviting sunrise. He then turned away towards the exit door, wanting to get closer to the orange and purple sky.  
  
The morning air practically tasted of autumn. Draco made his way towards the lake and sat down against a damp tree to take in the sun's performance. He wondered if anything could be that amazing.  
  
All of a sudden, out of thin air he heard a cough. Draco abruptly stood on the spot and paused again, in attempt to hear another noise. As if knowing that would happen, a small sob beckoned from the other side of the tree. Draco reached into his robes to withdraw his wand. Slowly, he made his way around the barks right side, wand in hand. Draco made sure not to step on any twigs or snag his robe on a branch. He jumped from the tree and into view, heart beating rapidly, mouth hanging open to shout a spell, ready to strike whatever it was, ready to win!  
  
A girl sad there with her head clutched against her small hands. Her red hair was falling dramatically from a delicate bun of bobby pins, not taking notice of Draco's presence; too busy flooding her eyes out.  
  
"Weasley." Draco stated as the girl shot her head up, realizing another human being was in her presence and wiped away tears.  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Virginia Weasley sat on the damp grass clutching her legs, staring at a sixteen year old Draco Malfoy with puffy brown eyes. She had never been alone with Draco before, she's actually never said much of anything to him before and now he turned up at the worst time.  
  
"I can be here Weasley, I'm a prefect." Draco pointed to a shiny pin attached to his robes. "You on the other hand, should not be here at this hour of the morning."  
  
"Alright then." Ginny paused to stand up. "I'll be leaving." Draco was about five inches taller than Ginny, he noticed as he looked down.  
  
"You will not be leaving." Draco smirked.  
  
"Won't I?" Ginny was confused; didn't he just want her to leave?  
  
"No, you wont." Draco sat down in the spot Ginny had been sitting and pointed to the right for her to sit down as well. The truth was Draco wanted company, even if it was a weasel; at least he could insult her for fun.  
  
Ginny sat down for some strange reason. She knew her brother hated Malfoy and whenever she was around Draco he'd always make fun of her. Maybe it was his eyes that drew her next to him, those eyes gave away so much of his character, they looked almost lonely.  
  
Draco could smell Ginny as she took her seat, like sunflower.  
  
"What do you want with me Malfoy?" Ginny tried to sound annoyed but hadn't succeeded. Draco kept his eyes pinned to the little bit of purple sky left while Ginny studied his right ear.  
  
"Why are you out here so early in the morning? Did your little boyfriend kick you out of the bed because you weren't good enough or did your father ran out of money so now you must live in this tree?" Now Draco decided to look at her and met eyes strait away. She had a short Irish nose that stuck up just a bit with freckles scattered across and onto her cheeks. Her face was small, just like her petite body, with huge dark brown eyes, long red lashes, and carefully shaped eye brows; making her look two years older. This was the first time Draco really noticed Virginia.  
  
"Don't talk about Harry that way." Draco smirked, knowing he had touched a sensitive nerve. Ginny decided not to argue about her family's lack of money...probably because it hurt her too much to think about it.  
  
"And why can't I talk about him in a way he deserves to be spoken about?" Draco leaned closer to Ginny, whispering. "Tell me, why were you crying?"  
  
Coming from anyone else, that question would have been full of concern. From Malfoy, it was either taunting or teasing...she couldn't decide. "I was NOT crying."  
  
"You're insulting my intelligence, weasel. I'm not as thick as Potter, I know what crying is when I see it." Draco seethed.  
  
"I don't want to talk about my problems with YOU. Why would I? Give me one good reason for me to tell you, and picking fun at me doesn't count!" Draco had never understood the expression 'if looks could kill...' until now.  
  
"Because no one else is here to listen." Draco thought his answer was very intelligent, like the sly boy he was.  
  
"It's just that stupid girl! She's such a little whore." Ginny's eyes stung and she once again, dug her face into her freckled hands. "Punkng Parsukn."  
  
"Are you speaking another language or are you just used to talking as if Potter's dick is in your mouth?" Draco couldn't help it; he just couldn't be sympathetic.  
  
"I SAID, 'Fucking Parkinson!' Fuck that little bitch, I fucking HATE HER." She had to yell, she had to let it all out, she had to tell someone, even if it was Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Please, if you're going to curse, do it properly." Draco paused. "So little first year Parkinson took away your 'big handsome' Potty?" He smirked. "You could always buy him back." Draco acted as if it were a brilliant idea. "Oh wait, I'm talking to a weasel, you don't have enough money to buy a proper quill! Never mind, then." He then sarcastically hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.  
  
"Shut your ugly mouth, Malfoy. I don't know why I'm wasting my time with trash like you." Ginny made to stand but didn't quite make it.  
  
A magnificently sized Masked Plover swooped from the now blue sky. Its black and gray wings cast a long shadow over the two teenagers. The bird gracefully grazed to the moist dirt. Its head was a bright yellow wrinkled skin with two black eyes deep inside its socket. The Plover somehow reminded Draco of agony. Sweet agony not of physical, but mental pain. The pain of not being able to show pleasure, sensitiveness, and affection. A pain he was most used to. This shallow bird brought its salmon clawed foot to Draco, showing him a silver envelope.  
  
Draco took the paper, trying not to touch the creature as best he could. Ginny looked over his shoulder, trying to see the scrawl as it was opened. Draco held the parchment between his thumb and index fingers while beautiful script letters danced to form words upon the page.  
  
Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy,  
  
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared.  
  
D.E.  
  
Draco somberly rolled the letter back up and slipped it into his pocket. He looked for the appalling bird but saw it only as a shadow riding back in the single cloud. With a lazy sigh, Draco began back to the castle.  
  
"Wait just a minute! I told you all of my problems, now you tell me what that whole thing was about, what does that letter say?" Ginny placed her hands on her slim waist and tapped her right foot, taking on an impression of Professor McGonagal.  
  
"My personal matters seem to be of much more importance than your silly school-girl problems." Draco yelled over his shoulder, still walking away. Ginny now jogged to up to the 'arrogant prick'.  
  
"They aren't silly. Malfoy, you're not being fair! C'mon, spill it!" Ginny stayed at Draco's heel, taking two steps for every of his one.  
  
"What gave you the impression that I'm fair? I've never heard of such a word." Draco abruptly came to a halt halfway up the stone stairs to the entrance, causing Ginny to collide into him. "Watch where you're going!" Draco flattened out non-existent wrinkles in his Slytherin uniform.  
  
"Please DRACO, just tell me!" Pleaded Ginny.  
  
"Whoa, okay, okay, just as long as you don't call me by my first name; people might think we're friends!" Draco took the note from his pocket and handed it to the red head. Her eyebrows fitted together when read though.  
  
"What does 'D.E.' stand for?" Ginny hoped he'd answer her question, it was the only way she'd understand the letter at all.  
  
"You can't figure it out?" Draco rolled his frosted eyes. "D.E!" He wondered if by repeating the letters she'd get it...still a blank stare. "Don't you know what my father is? Don't you know what all Malfoy's are or will be?"  
  
"Ooohhh!" Ginny grinned with a sign of correspondence. "Well I knew you were all Dung Eaters but I didn't know you'd actually admit it."  
  
"Don't try to be witty, you made yourself look even worse. You have the second part correct..." Draco hinted.  
  
"Wow, Draco. You're going to be a-a" She whispered. "Death Eater?"  
  
"Finally, you get the bloody picture."  
  
***  
  
And she stirs. Pansy Parkinson rose with fake elegance to gaze into the eyes of her love, only to find he had left. She somewhat expected his departure before seeing him in the morning but couldn't bring herself to believe it. Last night had been amazing for Pansy; she cherished every second, every deep breath, and every aggressive moan. She figured she was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.  
  
As Pansy lay deep in the wrinkled bed covers, lingering on last night, several sharp taps sounded from the gothic window to her left. With an irritated sigh, Pansy stumped out of the sheets and slumbered to the racket.  
  
"What the fuck do you want, you ugly little thing?" Pansy asked a medium sized owl with vibrant orange eyes, speckled red and black feathers, and sharp pointy ears.  
  
The bird only hooted and stretched out its leg with massive bloodied claws from its last hunt. Pansy untied the note and rolled the parchment open.  
  
Mrs. Pansy Parthenia Parkinson,  
  
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. Do not disappoint us this time.  
  
D.E.  
  
Pansy shoved the letter into a tight ball within her fist. She had defiantly messed up the last and first time she went to a death eater meeting. She disgraced herself in front of her father and mother while her sister gained all the benefits; and Brooke didn't even want the job!  
  
She remembered that day quite clearly. Her mother, Parthenia, was in the middle of telling Pansy about a sale on evening robes when Parthenia dropped her teacup to the ground with a shatter, and clutched her left forearm. Pansy ran to her mother's side and led her to the armoire for a black robe and her mask.  
  
Parthenia tuned to her daughter then and told her it was her time to come as well. It was her time to help their Lord live, to help him stay on this earth, even if it was only a part of him that actually stayed. Pansy only nodded and was told her sister would be doing the same.  
  
Sure enough, when they arrived at Voldemort's manor, Brooke was waiting there, along with their father, Blake Parkinson himself. How Pansy despised her father!  
  
The meeting ran smoothly, the only hard part of their meeting was the first look at Voldemort. It wasn't the first time Pansy had seen her Lord, its just that every time you first laid eyes on him a freezing shiver ran up your back, making small neck hairs stand.  
  
When the meeting had ended the Dark Lord told the Parkinson's to remain. He took Pansy into a side room and after three minutes she returned, looking like she couldn't breathe.  
  
Next, Brooke was asked to step into the room with Voldemort. He put a bony hand around her shoulder, causing her to gasp while he led her in. It took more than twenty minutes for Brooke to reappear from the door and when she did, her expression was horrified.  
  
It was obvious that whatever was being done, Pansy had done it better. Pansy had always been better at everything than Brooke had. From a game of chess and exploding snap to magic duels and even fist fighting, Pansy was always one step closer to winning, no matter what.  
  
On the contrary, Brooke had outdone her sister tremendously! She had received the privilege to do what every dark pureblood would love; and that annoyed Pansy terribly.  
  
So now Pansy stood there, fixated on the view of the lake from the other side of the tinted window. She still held the letter crunched up in her hand. And Pansy did what she wasn't supposed to do, she cried.  
  
***  
  
Harry awoke with a faint image of a beautiful girl smiling coyly at him. Was it only a dream? Was he really with Brooke last night? Had she really given him a kiss on the cheek?  
  
Harry smiled as he remembered it HAD happened, he HAD walked the girl to her room and she HAD kissed him goodnight. He also HAD been an absolute prick to Ginny Weasley, his GIRLFRIEND. She HAD seen the exchange between Brooke and himself and she HAD run off, away from the common room, away from his apology.  
  
Now Harry, Golden Boy of Gryffindor, was the one in big trouble. He had come to such an opportunity he never thought possible for himself. He had to choose between two girls because he liked them both and it just wouldn't be fair to either of them if he didn't make a choice. So what was he to do?  
  
Harry rolled on his back to stare at the top of the bed hangings. They were dark scarlet red...red-like Ginny's hair. 'She has the prettiest hair, it falls short around her face and gradually gets longer by the back, then stops before her butt. It's always pin strait and once in a while she'll put a small glittery clap in it to keep some of the smaller strands from falling into her eyes...falling into her eyes-Brooke's hair usually fell in her eyes. Brooke had stunning hair too. It was hard to describe, with all different shades of brown and blonde. Most of the dark brown hair was by her neck, and then she had light brown over that, then beautiful light strands of gold, taking up most of the mane, then selective platinum blond strands lay on top.' Harry looked thoughtful for a while. 'They're both perfect.'  
  
Harry began to come to the conclusion that the girls were complete opposites. Brooke was calm, sly, outgoing, and cunning while Ginny demonstrated a more happily easy going, respectful, caring but at same time, scary when provoked neutrality. Their looks too were much opposite. Ginny with red hair, chocolate brown eyes, pale and freckled skin, petite body, and an amazingly cute small smile displayed with dimples was enough for Harry to fall out of bed, stunned with fascination. Brooke with dirty blond hair, gold-hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, slim and big-breasted body, and a glistening smile was enough for Harry to get back into his bed to start some private things with himself.  
  
He was so lucky and yet-wasn't. He had tons of weight to hold; he had the power to hurt one of the girl's feelings and make the other smile. But what if he didn't have a choice at all? Maybe Brooke didn't like him that way, maybe she just thought it polite to kiss him goodnight, it wasn't like they made out or anything. And Ginny, it could be no turning back after she saw Brooke and him together again. She had already accepted his apology once and that same day Harry screwed it all up; he really was a prick.  
  
A prick who decided to push that matter aside. He had made his choice and he wasn't going to change his mind.  
  
***  
  
It was Harry Potter. She just couldn't believe it; she didn't want to believe it, but it-he-was right there clear as air (if that makes sense) in her memory. She had kissed the boy, only on the cheek, but it was nice, and she didn't regret it...until she saw the nosey little red head that was always around Harry peer from the staircase and then run away.  
  
Was he dating her? Brooke hoped he wasn't, she hoped he would eventually be with her. He is what she needed, breathed, dreamed about. He was different from all the other guys she had ever been with. He was sweet to her when she really needed a friend, he made her laugh when she was down, he made her feel wanted, and he made her want HIM. But he was Harry Potter.  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
The boy who made their family a tragedy after Voldemort's fall. The boy who hated her sister. The boy who was to kill the person to be her Lord. The boy who's name was repeated by her father day, night, and in his dreams. The boy she was supposed to hate, despise, loathe, spit upon, resent, curse, and shun.  
  
He was Harry Potter. And he was brilliantly gorgeous. Brooke couldn't stop thinking about him all of the next day. She couldn't stop staring at him at breakfast, lunch and now at dinner. He was freggin enticing.  
  
Brooke for the millionth time looked from her plate to the enveloping boy. He sat perfectly between his friend Hermione and Ron. He didn't look happy at all and neither did his mates. Actually, Ron looked beyond anger; he was quite on the verge of a tantrum.  
  
'What is he yelling about?' Brooke wondered then bored her eyes into Harry again. His ebony hair erratically lay stuck up in the back and down his forehead, covering the delicate scar. His eyebrows were knitted together over bewitching emerald orbs fixated on his empty dinner plate. His nose ran slender then sloped up a slight bit, accenting his fabulous high cheekbones. Then, his lips were tinged roseate, the bottom wet from his tongue. He was flawless. He was everything she wanted.  
  
"YOU ARE SUCH AN UNGRATEFUL, ARROGANT, DISRESPECTFUL, BRAINLESS DICK!"  
  
Brooke yanked her eyes from Harry and to his best sidekick, Ron. The whole hall became silent, every eye focused in on the two boys.  
  
"YOU CANT TREAT MY SISTER THAT WAY! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE INCOURAGED HER TO GO OUT WITH YOU; YOU DON'T DESERVE HER!" Harry's face turned red, not from embarrassment-Brooke could tell-but from anger.  
  
"I can be with whoever I WANT TO BE WITH and it doesn't concern you." What the hell were the boys going on about?  
  
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! IT CONCERNS ME VERY MUCH, HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER?" Ron had furious tears in his eyes while he slammed both his hands against Harry's chest, pushing him to step back.  
  
'He's cheating on his girlfriend? He's cheating on that little red haired girl? With WHO?'  
  
Ron fired on, "AND WITH THAT GIRL, THAT PARKINSON BITCH!" Ron pointed strait at Brooke and she could feel Harry's eyes on her too. 'OOOhhhh!' The comprehension dawned.  
  
Brooke was about to defend herself but Harry beat her to it. "Ron, stop being so blind, it's not like that!"  
  
"IT'S NOT LIKE WHAT-NOT LIKE WHAT-POTTER?" Ron's hair was in his face and Hermione was desperately trying to calm him down by saying things out of Brooke's hear shot.  
  
"It's just NOT what you think, Brooke and I are FRIENDS." Harry looked again at Brooke. His eyes were pleading and the green became so open and clear that Brooke wanted to run over to him and tell him it will be alright.  
  
"FRIENDS MY ARSE!" Ron dodged his fist right into Harry's perfect nose, spouting blood along his handsome face and Ron's freckled hand. Throaty gasps cried from the hall while the Slytherins laughed and cheered. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall made it just in time before Harry could give Ron a right hook in the eye.  
  
Ron whispered something so soft no one could hear, but Harry obviously did because his lips thinned together, his fingers curled to a ball, and his eyes turned to slits.  
  
McGonagall dragged Ron Weasley out by his arm while Dumbledore escorted Harry to the hospital wing, only after Harry glanced to Brooke again.  
  
When the both the boys were out of sight, the sight seemed to steer towards Brooke. The whole hall for once took notice Brooke was in their school; it was the first acknowledgement that she was living since the sorting three days ago. 'How did all this happen in only three days?'  
  
Seamus Finnigan smirked and winked his brown eye at Brooke. 'What is that all about?'  
  
The bell rang and as it did, a Vulture cast its ugly wings through the window where the owls had came during lunch. The ghastly thing landed on Brooke's clean plate and held out its leg. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stood on their chairs so they'd be able to see over the leaving students.  
  
Brooke opened the parchment and read:  
  
Mrs. Brooke Blair Parkinson,  
  
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. The Lord greatly anticipates your arrival.  
  
D.E.  
  
'OH SHIT! The dark Lord wants me to come, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.' Brooke's hands began to tremble, shaking the paper still in her hand with her eyes fixed still upon it. She read the short letter over again and disappointment flooded as the words remained the same.  
  
A cool, milky hand rested upon hers and gently pulled the parchment from her grasp.  
  
"We've gotten one too." Draco implored, gesturing to Pansy.  
  
Brooke looked to Malfoy, "I see."  
  
Pansy nodded and walked away, like she could spare any more time with her own sister.  
  
"Do you think we're going to be given the mark?" Brooke whispered to the blond.  
  
"I think there is more to it than just the mark, we must have to do something. Otherwise why would all of us be called together?" Draco was talking to this Gryffindor as an equal.  
  
"Right, well-uh-when do you think it will happen?"  
  
"What am I, a dictionary?" Draco rolled his eyes. "They probably wont call us for a long while, they like to make us nervous for as much a time as possible."  
  
Brooke only nodded. A silence passed and she took in some air before her next sentence. "Are we in this together Draco, I mean, are we friends?" Brooke felt only foolish, like he'd actually say yes.  
  
"I don't have friends, Parkinson, only acquaintances, enemies, and fuck partners. But we are in this together, my choice or not."  
  
"I see, well, I figured it would have just made it easier if we were friends." Brooke looked at the floor and fiddled with her hands.  
  
"It's the hard way then, but if it makes you feel better, your rather uh- nice to talk to." It did make Brooke feel a bit better, although she wished she never asked.  
  
"Alright then, I'll be seeing you Malfoy."  
  
"Parkinson." Malfoy turned from her with a dramatic toss of his robes.  
  
***  
  
That's the chapter, took me long enough!  
  
Please leave a review, I'm insecure, and I need some boosting and some constructive criticism. 


	6. Pretty eyed, pirate smile

A/N: The song Tiny Dancer by Elton John is in this chapter. Listen to the song as you read it, it will be a lot more fun! Also, you can see below I put in some interesting facts on Draco and his family. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. If you don't, then skip to 'Chapter 6' and read on!  
  
Maleficus, meaning evil-doer. Maleficent, harmful or evil in intent or effect. Mal foi, "bad faith."  
  
Lucifer, the Devil.  
  
Narcissus, vain, in Greek myth he fell in love with himself and drowned in a river while admiring his own reflection.  
  
Draco, "dragon" and "snake."  
  
Dragaon- From the Latin Draco. Symbol of many real and fictional kings and of destruction. Some heroes discover dragons are misunderstood. Though they can be frightening, they can also be benevolent. Dragons are feared because of their appearance. It is harmless in the way of poison, but poison is not necessary for it to cause death because it kills whatever it has entangled in its folds. They're not always enemies of humans; they're benevolent-though sometimes bossy. Most important, it is a symbol of leadership. The blood of a dragon is also magical. "To kill a dragon is to become king."  
  
***  
  
Chapter 6.  
  
The middle of October came with a whoosh of spiced air and fallen leaves before any of the Hogwarts houses realized. The days leading to now weren't filled with much excitement for Harry; mostly filled with homework, Quidditch practices, avoiding Ron, nodding and agreeing with whatever Hermione says, and eyeing Brooke when she wasn't looking.  
  
But now Harry was bored sitting in the common room with nothing to do. He had finished all his homework and he didn't have to meet his Quidditch team for another four hours. Harry picked himself off the warm sofa facing a dancing fire. He decided to take a walk around the castle, maybe find someone to occupy his time.  
  
This had been a mistake.  
  
"Oh Harry! Where are you going?" A soprano voice called to his back. Harry turned to face his ex-girlfriend, Cho Chang.  
  
Cho was obviously heading to the library, for she held tons of blue books in her arms. "I'm just taking a walk, so I'll-er-see you later?" He didn't intend for his voice to crack.  
  
"Alright." Cho turned a bit then faced Harry again. "Are you and Ron friends again?"  
  
This was personal. Harry hadn't talked to Cho since the first day of classes, and to say that it didn't go too well would be an understatement. "No, we're not. I really have to be going."  
  
"I thought you were just walking around." Cho raised one brow.  
  
"Well I am but-er-I just remembered I-er-have to be going to...to" Harry was obviously horrible at lying. "To do some things." He turned from her, dashing back to the safety of his common room when...SMACK!  
  
"WHAT IN MERLIN! WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING YOU-uh-you...Harry?"  
  
There was Brooke. Brooke, Brooke, Brooke. Harry had run smack-dab into BROOKE. She started to blush and Harry helped her back to her feet.  
  
"Always nice running into you." 'Wow, that was so lame.' Thought Harry. Harry looked up and locked eyes with her. She had the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen. They gave her so much personality.  
  
Brooke smiled her fascinating way and began to pick up what had dropped from her shopping bag when she ran into Boy Wonder.  
  
'He is so fucking good-looking.' Brooke thought while on the floor. Harry bent down to help and Brooke caught a peak at his bottom. Perfect. She danced her eyes to Harry's chest. Perfect. Following to his shoulders. Perfect. Then to his neck. Perfect. And finally to his face. Perfect, perfect, PERFECT. She had never compared that word to one guy in such a short time, if at all.  
  
"Where are you going with these weird shoes?" Harry held up black, high- heeled footwear with dirt marks across the toe part and metal plates on the sole.  
  
"Those are tap shoes, Harry. And these are jazz shoes, and these are ballet slippers." Brooke pointed to a pair of worn, used-to-be-black shoes with thick dark plastic soles by the heel and toes, then to pointy, fresh pink slippers with long matching ribbon coming from where the ankle would be.  
  
Harry remembered watching a ballet program when he was about eight, over his Aunt's shoulder. He thought they looked so beautiful: high on their toes, with their hair in buns, and lace skirts billowing when they turned.  
  
"You dance?" Was all Harry could say in response as they got to their feet.  
  
"I've been dancing since I was seven until about a year ago. I was on my way to practice when I bumped into you." Brooke smiled again.  
  
"Where are you going to practice?"  
  
She subconsciously bit her lip, "Good question; I have no idea. I was going to try to find an empty classroom, but I wouldn't have music."  
  
"Oh." Harry bit his lip too. Could he trust her? 'YES!' Screamed a voice in his head. "C'mere."  
  
"Oh no, not another one of your room surprises!" Said Brooke, although she walked along as Harry tugged at her sleeve.  
  
Up, up, up. Staircase after staircase, step after step. When they reached a point where Brooke wondered if she should tell Harry she was going to turn back, they came to a stop.  
  
"Here we are." Harry turned, letting Brooke look at his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. "Seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls." He pointed to the tapestry.  
  
"Well this is almost as wonderful as the Great Hall." Brooke rolled her eyes.  
  
"Its better!" Apparently he didn't notice the sarcasm. 'How cute!' Harry ran his fingers through his disastrous hair, making it worse. "I need you to concentrate hard on a wizard dance studio while walking past this bit of wall three times; I'll do the same."  
  
Brooke didn't understand this boy, he was so different. Harry stole her hand and pulled her into a walk past the wall.  
  
'We need a place for us to dance...' She thought. "Just give us a place to practice...somewhere big, roomy, and with lots of mirrors.' Brooke felt stupid, but continued none the less. 'With music and bright lights.'  
  
They passed the wall a second time and Brooke looked up at Harry, who had his eyes screwed shut.  
  
"Harry!" Brooke came to a halt after the third walk past.  
  
Two glossy white doors had appeared in the wall. Brooke was dumbfounded, her expression made Harry smirk; yes, smirk. 'Just when I thought he couldn't get any cuter.'  
  
Harry turned the brass knob and flexed the door open a small crack. He waited for Brooke to make the first entrance.  
  
The room was magnificent. The walls stretched high with mirrors in place of paint on three walls, the fourth was occupied of a painting of a ballerina in a dark green dress, studded with charmed sparkles. A boy in a blue suit was holding her up in the air. The picture didn't move an inch besides the glitter on the girl's dress.  
  
"That was my idea." Harry said, referring to the picture. In front of the painted dancers, on the floor, were two rows of uncomfortable looking chairs. To the right of the chairs was a funny looking thing; it was small, black, had numerous buttons and numbers, and two metal screens.  
  
"Wha's that?" Brooke pointed to the 'funny looking thing.'  
  
"Don't you know?" Harry smirked for a second time. "It's a boom box." He moved to the so-called 'boom box' and pressed on a button and it magically played music; bad music.  
  
"Never seen that before, it's like magic!" Harry laughed. "What's so funny, Potter?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing! It's just that it's a muggle thing, it's anything but magic."  
  
"Oh, I see; well play a different song, this one's giving me a headache." The music blasted a black rapper who cursed and said 'nigga' a lot.  
  
Harry turned a knob-how he knew which to touch-God only knows. Every song sounded the same. "Sorry, I can't find any good stations."  
  
Brooke decided against asking him what a 'stations' was. "Then pick your own song!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Oh lady, you can't pick your own song with this muggle crap, can you?" Brooke was always amazed at how muggles ever got along daily. "TINY DANCER!"  
  
'What in the name of Merlin did she just screech?' Harry wondered as he looked to the smiling girl. All at once, light piano music filled the room from the walls, floor, and ceiling. 'Now this is what I call surround sound!'  
  
Brooke snapped her fingers for his attention; she'd been asking the same question twice. "Should I do jazz, hip hop, tap, or ballet?"  
  
"WHAT?!?" Harry shouted, startled from being out of his trance. "Oh-um- could you do ballet? I really would like to see that." Brooke nodded and reached for her bag. She pulled her pale pink slippers from it and glided her feet into them, then tied the lace in a criss-cross form up her leg in skin colored tights. "This is how our world listens to music, I suppose?"  
  
"Yes, this is how the proper ones listen to their songs...but I have an interest in some muggle music. Like this song for example." The same song was continuously playing and Harry listened to the words...they were lovely.  
  
"RESTART!" Brooke screamed into the tower again and the music started from the beginning. Harry was amazed a second time. "Hogwarts can't have this sort of music play here, I'm surprised it worked, otherwise we'd be stuck with your excuse for a player." Harry was still looking at the walls as if he'd find a secret speaker. "What are you doing? Sit down." It wasn't a command; it sounded like she was amused.  
  
Harry sat just before Elton John's voice blended into the piano.  
  
'Blue jean baby, LA lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man. Ballerina, you must have seen her, dancing in the sand.'  
  
The floor turned into sand, although it remained a wooden patch under Brooke's feet. She stood on her pointed shoes and pranced like a small girl around the room, although elegantly and stunningly. The mirrors turned a light blue.  
  
'Now she's in me, always with me. Tiny dancer in my hand.'  
  
Brooke gained speed across the room and did a tremendous leap in the air. Her skirt billowed around her and some more platinum blond strands fell from her bun. She looked almost like the ballerina Harry saw on TV that one time, only even more exquisite and graceful.  
  
The beat of the piano picked up and was joined with more instruments. Brooke brought her arms above her head and did quick turns called pirouettes across the 'sand'.  
  
'Jesus freaks, out in the street, Handing tickets out for God. Turning back, she just laughs, The boulevard is not that bad'  
  
Brooke stopped spinning to look at Harry. His eyes were so green. He had a sort of majesty she'd never seen before; even with his mouth hanging open and his cheeks flushed. Brooke smiled with her tongue stuck small between her teeth.  
  
She swung her arms to her left and did a quick five step: right, left, right, right, left and flew from the patch of wood, twirling her legs so her body faced opposite and lading smartly on both feet. "That's a tourjette." She informed the dark haired boy who only nodded, eyes wide and expectant.  
  
'Piano man, he makes his stand, In the auditorium. Looking on, she sings the songs, The words she knows, the tune she hums.'  
  
Brooke went into a frenzy of twirls on one toe and then into a fast spin in the air. She looked a little out of breath but remained smiling. The girl went into a laying position on her stomach and slowly picked her right leg into the empty air and back, back, back over her head; causing the other leg to follow. Harry almost ran from his seat to help her, but she pushed her arms from the floor and did a delicate flip, landing back upright on both feet. She smiled even wider after getting a look at Harry.  
  
But oh, how it feels so real, Lying here with no one near. Only you, and you can't hear me, When I say softly, slowly.  
  
Brooke became a part of the music then; she was the dancer in the song. She did every spin in beat with the piano, every step in turn with the throbbing base, and every swish of her skirt made her ever so much more enticing. 'Softly, slowly' she sang as she walked towards Harry. She cupped his chin in her hands and came oh so close. They were dreadfully close-then again-not so dreadfully. He liked it! He wanted to close the space; he wanted to touch his lips with her plushed red ones, to be her boyfriend. But she left him when the music picked up again. 'Bloody tease!'  
  
'Hold me closer tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen, You had a busy day today.'  
  
This was her finale. She twirled, ran, spun her arms, bent and straitened her legs, snapped her head around to keep eye contact with Harry, and even did a flip. Her face was flushed dark but she didn't look tired except for that, she kept that fantastic smile in place. With every spin and run, a waft of air grazed Harry, it was Brooke; or at least her sent. It smelled fresh, like steam when you step out of a hot shower, and like a tinge of cut lemon, and something else; something so-well-Brooke.  
  
'Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man. Ballerina, you must have seen her, dancing in the sand. And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand.'  
  
Brooke slowed her dance movements. She wasn't aggressive in dancing anymore, she looked like a swan now (cliché as it is) and she walked on tiptoes towards Harry. Her eyes never left his on the walk; they were big and shining, gold and wanting. 'And now she's in me,' Brooke made it the distance and kneeled at Harry's feet. Her breath was fast and heaving, her face was featherly moist, and most of her hair fell in her eyes and around her high cheekbones. 'Always with me,' Harry's breath tugged in his throat, he forgot how to breathe! Brooke pushed herself up on her knees, her nose was level with his chin. She could tell Harry was nervous and she liked that. 'Tiny dancer in my hand.' Brooke closed her eyes and felt Harry take a sharp intake of breath. She didn't have to move to him; he came to her. Their lips met. Harry Potter was kissing Brooke Parkinson so lightly and sweetly.  
  
The skin on Brooke's lips was damp while Harry's was dry. Harry's thoughts fluttered away from him and all he could think about was this gorgeous ballerina was kissing him. All he could imagine was her copper eyes. Three words were on repeat: 'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.' Brooke parted her lips. Was she thinking the same thing? Did she want him as much as he wanted her? Now all his thoughts came to him, now he was back in his world and now he did something he thought was the last thing he'd ever want to do.  
  
Harry stopped and broke the contact with Brooke. She opened her glassy eyes with a questionable mark stuck to her adorable face. "What's wrong, Harry?" She whispered. 'Oh good god, she thought she was doing wrong! Never, ever could she do wrong!'  
  
"Nothing, I just, I was just-uh-I" 'Shit! What the hell is wrong with ME?' Harry took a calming breath. "I just didn't know you really liked me like this."  
  
Brooke tightened her lips together as if she were facing the facts. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I thought you felt the same way." She stood up and took a step away from his chair.  
  
"WHAT? No, no. Don't go anywhere." Harry stood too and reached for Brooke's wrist. "I feel the exact same way, I just thought you didn't and it surprised me that you were the first to make the move because of that."  
  
"Oh." That's all she said and a silence fell the room. "So, did you like the dance?"  
  
What a stupid question, how could he NOT like the dance? "Hell yeah, I did!" With that remark Harry yanked Brooke into his arms and they met lips for the second time. Now, they were hard, fast kisses, needy and wanting. Brooke opened her mouth again but Harry didn't make an entry so Brooke pulled back.  
  
"We should get going." Brooke shrugged, trying desperately hard not to look at Harry for fear she'd change her mind and kiss him again.  
  
"Right." Came his raspy reply and he took her hand (like the same way they came in) and walked with her to the doors.  
  
They didn't need words to communicate as they walked towards the Fat Lady Portrait. Their contact remained in their hands that were still entangled together. Brooke poked her small finger between their hands and tickled Harry's palm, while Harry massaged Brooke's knuckles until they made it the way down.  
  
The question that had been lingering in Harry's mind was soon about to explode, and what a better time to ask then this? "Halloween is coming up soon."  
  
"I haven't celebrated that before." Brooke knew where this was going but decided to play hard to get.  
  
"Oh, well I haven't either before I came to Hogwarts..." This wasn't going where he would have liked. "I was wondering if you had a date for the dance after the feast?"  
  
"Not yet." She smirked, reminding Harry of Draco Malfoy only a lot more feminine and pretty.  
  
"Neither do I." This was taking forever! 'Just ask already!' "Would you like to-"  
  
"Harry!" It was the too familiar high-pitched voice he heard earlier. 'Fuck!'  
  
Cho decided to find Harry again after the display of nervousness he showed when they were talking in the hall not too long ago. 'Who's that blond he's with? She looks too stuck-up for her own good.'  
  
"Cho, what are you doing here?" Harry made a fleeting look to Brooke. There wasn't a trace of jealousy on her face.  
  
"I came looking for you after you ran off, I figured you were too nervous to be around me." Now Brooke looked amused.  
  
"When did he 'run off' from you?" Brooke was speaking to Cho. 'Please don't say anything stupid, Cho,' Harry thought, 'Please!'  
  
"Just about a half hour ago." She turned back to Harry. "I would love to go to the dance with you, Harry." Cho smiled. He hated her smile now, he hated the way she thought she was doing him a favor, he hated the way she flipped her black hair over her shoulder as she walked away. But the thing he hated most was seeing Brooke turn away from him. She ran the opposite direction from Cho; away from the common room, away from Harry; 'The Gryffindor God.'  
  
Why was he labeled such mindless things, 'Boy Wonder, Gryffindor God, The Boy-Who-Lived, Golden Boy, Gryffindor's Knight' when he can't even get the girl he wants to go to a school dance with him?  
  
***  
  
Draco was experiencing things that Malfoy's shouldn't ever, EVER experience. He had been standing at the entrance to the Quidditch field for over twenty minutes starring at the sky.  
  
The blue sky wasn't empty though; a girl was on her speeding broom, practicing dives, turns, and fancy loop-de-loops. Her black robes with scarlet trim blew in rhythm with the wind, Draco observed, and her hair whipped in her face in an angelic way.  
  
Draco held his broomstick in his hand but still didn't make any movement except his gray eyes, (that have made so many girls swoon) followed the delicate girl in the air. She was such a sight to see. She looked like she belonged in the sky as a decoration, like an ornament on a Christmas tree. He didn't have a clue who the girl even was; he could tell she was a Gryffindor because of her robes and he could make out she was-in fact-a girl because of her hair but he couldn't see far enough to catch a look at her face.  
  
It was like mystery game he used to play as a child to Draco. He liked guessing in his mind who the girl may be. 'Millicent? No, no, she's far too large for a broom to carry her so elegantly in the air, plus this girl's a Gryffindor. Granger? Possibly, but I seriously hope it isn't her; I'd have to kill myself for taking an interest in that mudblood bookworm. But it couldn't be, she didn't own a broom and if she did she probably wouldn't be as good a flier as this girl. That Parkinson chick? Brooke? Possibly, that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she owned a broomstick? I don't think its her though, I'd be able to see her blond hair from here and from the looks of this girl's hair; it's dark. So who the hell is it?' Draco squinted as the girl flew into the sun. 'Dark hair, Gryffindor, possibly plays Quidditch...'  
  
"WEASLEY!" He hadn't meant to say her name out loud.  
  
Ginny could recognize that snarl anywhere. She dove from the warmth the sun caste on her and to the ground, meeting her pale-skinned enemy.  
  
"What do I owe the pleasure?" Ginny said sarcastically. If only she hadn't been overwhelmed by Draco's appearance, her question would have been a lot more effective. He had on a dark green button down shirt with the top three buttons undone, showing an unmistakably beautiful chest. His tan khakis where just a centimeter from the dewy grass, perfect as he was, and his un-scorched black boots were reflecting the sun.  
  
"You're making an attempt at flying I see?" Draco hated the way he sounded. All of his sly words seemed to be so vengeful while festering in his head, but as soon as he spoke them they didn't sound so mean, he always thought it was his voice that messed it up; he never did like his voice much. "You better keep practicing, there's no way your pussy Gryffindor team will beat Slytherin."  
  
"We did last year, Malfoy. And I can fly circles around you." Ginny thought about her statement and to her horror, it sounded like a threat. Ginny knew Malfoy was an exceptional flyer, he was fast but he never became 'one' with his broom.  
  
"You can fly circles around me? Is that right, you disgrace to the magical world?" He smirked, flashing the right side of his teeth like some sort of pirate. Ginny wished that she could see Draco smile a true smile. If his smirks were so damn sexy just imagine what his smile must look like!  
  
"That's right." This time Ginny surprised herself because she sounded so confident. Lately, all of her emotions weren't coming across right. When she felt sad, she walked around smiling. In the rare moments she was happy, she would say something vile to the closest unsuspecting person.  
  
"Lets make that a bet, loser has to do one thing that the winner says without complaint." 'What am I saying?' Draco didn't know what he was getting into; it seemed as though his mouth disregarded everything that his brain kept telling it to do.  
  
"Fine, then. From those hoops to the other side of the field and back?" Again, she sounded too confident for her own liking.  
  
"Whatever Weasley, just don't forget to slow down when you approach the hoops, I don't want to be blamed for murder." Draco pushed off the ground and sped towards the end of the field, Ginny close behind.  
  
They stopped in front of the middle hoop. "Ready to lick the bottom of my shoes after I win, Malfoy?" Draco was amused on the inside that the youngest Weasley was capable of being witty.  
  
"Only if you're ready to flash the entire Great Hall at dinner." Ginny's face turned red, much to Draco's delight.  
  
"On the count of three." Ginny set her eyes on the opposite goal hoops.  
  
"One." Draco looked at Ginny's determined face.  
  
"Two." Ginny almost whispered. Draco faced forward.  
  
"THREE!" They both yelled together.  
  
They both took off together without a hesitant moment to waste. Ginny felt the cool air cut into her face and chap her lips. She hated flying fast like this; she was the Chaser for Gryffindor, not Seeker (although she wasn't rotten at that either) like Malfoy. She liked to feel more in control of her broom, other than speeding off at an undecided destination; it almost made her sick.  
  
Draco on the other hand, was relaxed on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One. He was comfortable with flying so fast that he became a blur to any watchers. He was approaching the other end of the field and figured he should slow down to turn soon. He looked at Virginia but she kept at the same speed. 'Stupid git.' Draco was very close to the poles now; he let his top speed slow. Ginny slowed along with him, she knew what she was doing, and she wouldn't let him go faster than her the slightest bit.  
  
Ginny's palms grew sweatier by the minute, causing her grip on the broom to become slick. Her arms and the back of her neck broke out in small goose bumps, followed by a shock wave of heat flowing from her pulse points. She was falling behind Draco, slowly but surly. Flashing her breasts to all of her classmates certainly wasn't on her to-do list. Ginny narrowed her brown eyes on the middle hoop and sped up with Malfoy. They were neck in neck.  
  
Closer, closer, closer. The end of the field was approaching at an exhausting rate. Draco was determined to win; to even be in a tie with a Weasley didn't satisfy him one ounce. He did the only thing he could think of to insure his win; after all they didn't set any rules.  
  
Ginny was yards away from the three 'bubble-wand-looking' hoops and she still wasn't able to out do Malfoy. If they were tied they'd probably have a re-match, and she wouldn't be able to go through this again, all this pressure. She did a very Slytherin thing, the very thing that the Slytherin beside her did at the same time.  
  
WACK!! Ginny tossed her foot to her right, with a steady force, into Malfoy's soft groin. And Draco pointed out his elbow and jammed it smack- jab into Ginny's tender breast. Both teenagers howled in pain.  
  
Draco had never been so insulted! No one was allowed to touch him ANYWHERE he did not wish to be touched. His area was throbbing madly in pain. 'I may not be able to re-produce properly because of this annoying bitch.' He looked over to his left, Ginny wasn't there.  
  
The goal post was only a yard in front of him for a second and when he passed it he whipped around in time to see Ginny pass through the middle ring, clutching her right boob.  
  
She returned her hands back onto her boom handle and flew towards Draco, head hung low. Malfoy had won. Ginny was to flash the entire student body, showing her bruised right breast.  
  
Ginny hovered next to Malfoy for what felt like days. She didn't want to look at him, to see him smirking triumphantly at her, to make her feel like the loser she was. When the chirps of the birds became annoying, the sweat on her hands increased, her heat strokes returned, and her eyes started to water from the pain in her chest, she looked up, at Draco.  
  
He wasn't smirking. He wasn't even giving her a disgusted face. On the contrary, he had no sign of life at all.  
  
"What's wrong, Malfoy?" This was just so weird, what is up with this boy? Why isn't he being the prick he's destined to be?  
  
He held his breath until his lungs threatened to pop. Draco opened his mouth and released his compressed air, then took a large amount of fresh air in. He did this several times until Weasley's face turned bored. "I didn't know a Gryffindor had it in them, or a Weasley for that matter." Silence. He continued, "To kick someone like that to win. You must really hate me."  
  
This was not the Draco Malfoy she had grown to despise. With a lock of white-blonde hair falling to his nose and a pathetic glint in his silver eyes, he looked like an abandoned child. Ginny's heart clenched. "I don't hate you that much, Malfoy. I'm just not looking forward to showing off my body to the school." Ginny watched as Draco looked up into her eyes.  
  
Ginny's face was beat red, not from embarrassment as usual, but from exhaustion. Her hair was clumped up at the top and shrewd around her small face. She looked like she'd been through hell, but still managed to be lovely. Draco stared. "You don't have to do that." He remembered who he was again and tried to recover. "You'd blind everyone if you showed any revealing parts." 'Whew, close one!'  
  
Ginny closed her eyes, trying to draw in a steady pace of breath. "Then what do I have to do?" She hoped he'd get on with it, all she wished to do was land and get a drink of water.  
  
Draco didn't have the slightest clue. That is totally un-Malfoy-like. He watched as Ginny massaged her breast again. "Hurts?" He meant to apologize but realized he had never done that before.  
  
"Yes, it hurts." Ginny rolled her eyes and waited for her punishment. "Carry on."  
  
Draco had the strangest desire to reach out and rub both of Ginny's breasts. He snapped his head away from her chest. 'What was I thinking?! Gross!' He averted his eyes back to Ginny's. He knew what he was about to do and carried on before he changed his mind.  
  
Draco took Ginny's shoulders in his hands and ran them down her arm, stopping at her waist. "Are you nervous?" He had a maniac glint in his eyes.  
  
Ginny swallowed. Normally, she'd protest right away but she felt so weak, so nauseous, so completely tired. And Draco looked so devilishly innocent, like a child who just discovered he could kill ants with a magnifying glass. "Some punishment." She mumbled, but Malfoy heard and gave his famous smirk.  
  
Draco ran his hands back up to Virginia's breasts. He cupped them in his hands and was pleasantly surprised to find they were larger than they looked. Ginny took a gasp of air, "Oh." She hadn't been expecting this.  
  
Draco flicked his fingers over her upper body, steadily circling what he could feel of her nipples through the fabric. Ginny's eyes bugged out and she bit hard on her tongue not to moan.  
  
Malfoy became concerned that this girl was too tired to take on such physical contact. Her breathing was more staggered than before. He picked up his right hand from her breast and laid it gently on her cheek. He traced her pink lips with his thumb pad. Then so slowly and carefully, he leaned his head forward. More locks of blonde fell to his forehead. He lifted her chin and drove into a warm kiss.  
  
Ginny gave a gasp that wanted to escape for a long while in the back of her throat. Draco tasted like vanilla, smelled like vanilla, and his touch was smooth like vanilla. She wasn't aware that he was capable of being so tender. He held her like a fragile flower. She let her eyes close when she noticed Draco wasn't going to pull away. But never remembered opening her eyes again.  
  
Draco was in heaven. He didn't know how eager he was to touch Ginny like this until he was doing it. He felt a vibration in his lips caused by her gasp. He pulled closer to her on his broom. She was so warm. Draco licked her lips but she didn't respond. He opened his eyes and pulled gently away from her. Ginny's eyes remained shut and her body was limp.  
  
"Weeeasleeey." Draco rolled his eyes, and waved his hand in front of her face. He knew he was a good kisser and attractive but to be totally knocked out after one kiss was ridiculous. "It's over!" He nudged the girl in the shoulder; MISTAKE!  
  
Ginny went rolling off her broom and began plunging strait for the ground, unconscious.  
  
***  
  
Night fell like a bird that had been shot out of the expanding sky. There was terrible and irking clouds roaming over the Hogwarts castle. They looked ready to spit fiery blood, instead of the usual cats and dogs.  
  
Ron sat in the library. No, Ron was sitting in the library with his head on a pile of books and his arms carelessly thrown on the table. He had been studying all day long with his girlfriend and now that it was dark outside he only wanted to dose off into a non-studying dream with no incantations, potion ingredients, wild beasts, or furry plants. He'd prefer a dreamless sleep very much.  
  
Hermione would allow it since it was night, but the strange weather made her think better. "Ron." No answer. "Ronnikins?" Nothing. "RONALD WEASLEY!"  
  
"WHAT, MUM?" Ron picked his head off the Wild Beasts and Where to Find Them book, to meet his sleepy eyes with Hermione. "What is it Hermione? Are we finished studying?"  
  
"I told you, you didn't have to come with me. I said I'd be here all day." Hermione had urged Ron not to follow along with her to the library. He'd be overly bored and she'd feel overly guilty for his unhappiness. But follow he did. He never knew was best for him, but she enjoyed his company. "Look out this window, quick!"  
  
Ron did as she said, dragging his numb feet behind him. He peered out the window. There wasn't any sign of stars or the moon. The sky was covered in black clouds. Ron looked to the ground but couldn't see any grass. It seemed the clouds covered everywhere, like thick, deep fog. "What is that?"  
  
"I read about it in a book once." This was the exact answer Ron expected to hear. She always 'read about it in a book,' it was one of the reasons he was amazed with her, although he'd never admit it. "I remember that it's dark magic, although it could just be the weather acting strangely."  
  
"What sort of dark magic?" Ron still looked out the window.  
  
"It's dark magic that can only be created with a group of wizards and witches. Four to be exact. If I remember correctly," Ron knew she remembered just fine, "each witch and wizard stands forming a square, one for north, one for south, one east, and one west." Hermione's eyebrows knitted together. "They say a spell, each spells different, and in the middle of the square they made, a cloud forms.  
  
"The cloud grows bigger and bigger after time. The first night--the same night--it will only cause a regular thunderstorm. Remember the first day here? Remember there was a storm?" Ron nodded. "Then time will pass and the cloud will grow even more. I know there's something that happens before its final night living, but I just can't remember." Time passed and Ron grew impatient.  
  
"Well then what happens on the 'final night living?'"  
  
"By that time, the cloud will be massive and very thick. From it, it will rain exactly seven hundred billion drops of blood every half-hour. The blood comes from all the people who have been killed in the last fifty years. The rain will only stop when the blood runs out."  
  
"This is scary, Hermione. Do you think this is what it is?" Ron looked at Hermione. She was still gazing out the window as she continued.  
  
"I don't think we have to worry. I could have read all of that in a book of myths, I think I did actually." Her face turned brighter. "Yes, I remember now, it was a book of myths. This must be just an ordinary fog." She smiled and gathered her books. "Lets get going."  
  
Ron sighed and looked out the window again. He moved slowly away to follow his girlfriend out the door.  
  
Halfway to the Gryffindor common room, Colin Creevey jumped in Ron's path. He looked perky and excited as usual.  
  
"Ron, Ron! Did you hear?" Colin waved his arms in excitement.  
  
"Hear what, Colin?" Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"Your sister Ginny, she-"  
  
"What? What about Ginny? Is she alright?" Ever since Ron's second year in the Chamber of Secrets, Ron had been even more protective of his baby sister. He never wanted anything bad to happen to her again.  
  
"She's fine. She's in the hospital wing, I saw her. I heard she fell from her broom!" Colin's eyes bugged out as if this was an amazing stunt. "I couldn't get a picture though, Malfoy was pushing me out of the way."  
  
"MALFOY? What was Malfoy doing there? Is Ginny okay, Colin?" Ron grabbed Colin's collar, looking him square in the eye. He had to ignore Hermione's attempt at pulling him off Colin before he'd strangle him.  
  
"She's fine!" Colin squeaked out. "I don't know why Malfoy was there, but he seemed concerned."  
  
Ron dropped Colin free. He turned and ran towards the infirmary, not wasting any time. Hermione and Colin followed close behind.  
  
***  
  
A/N: That's chapter six. If you've been reading my story from the first day please re-read the first chapter. I've done it over and changed a whole lot; in my opinion, for the better.  
  
Please review, I love them!  
  
Do you think the chapters are too long? Too short? Just right?  
  
Do you like the pairings? Harry and Brooke, Ginny and Draco, Ron and Hermione.  
  
Is the plot too confusing?  
  
Do you like my new character, Brooke?  
  
You don't have to answer my questions, but please leave a review :-)  
  
P.S.- The song Tiny Dancer is by Elton John, not mine! 


	7. Torture me Again

Chapter 7.  
  
The back of Ginny's head pounded like a hammer to nail. The pain was searing through her lower back and right ankle, never wavering or fading the slightest. She could tell, through her eyelids, the room she currently occupied was bright, but the energy need to open them was absent.  
  
Her right hand was being stroked softly and she could hear distant voices. Carefully, she peaked her eyes open. White surrounded her, on her bed, around the walls, and against her eyes. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was in heaven, but she probably wouldn't feel so much pain in heaven.  
  
"Ginny?" Such a concerned and extremely familiar voice asked. "Ginny, are you alright?" The hand that was stroking her fingers left and returned at her waist, pulling her up right.  
  
"Ron?" Ginny saw a blur of red, two specks of dark brown below, and light brown dots all over his face. "I'm fine, I'm fine."  
  
Ron let go of his little sister and sat back in his chair. He watched her focus her eyes and rub the back of her head. Hermione ran from Dumbledore, whom she was having a discussion with, and to Ginny's bedside when she heard her voice. Colin Creevey followed.  
  
"Oh Ginny! We were so worried! What happened to you? What did Malfoy do?" Hermione's eyes glittered with concern; she kneeled next to her bed.  
  
"What? Malfoy? Malfoy didn't do anything." This was a lie, he had done quite a lot, but she didn't think they'd what to hear what it was he did, especially Ron.  
  
"Are you sure, Ginny?" Ron asked, "Why was he there when you fell?"  
  
Ginny hated when Ron played his older brother role. He meant well, but he was only one year older. "He was only there to practice flying like I was. He didn't bother me. I just fell off my broom because I was so exhausted." This was true, even if she left out some parts of the story.  
  
"Well we had to escort him out only ten minutes ago, he put up a struggle though." Said Ron.  
  
"He wanted to stay?" Ginny liked the sound of that. Draco Malfoy cared about her, he wanted to stay.  
  
"I suppose." He shrugged his shoulders. "I think we'll be going now, Harry said he wanted to talk to me, something about the dance tomorrow."  
  
"THE DANCE IS TOMORROW?" Ginny sat bolt upright. How long had she been knocked out anyway?  
  
"Yes, its tomorrow. You've been in this bed for a week." Hermione cut in.  
  
"Do you mind if I snap a shot? Ginny's face looks really funny!" Colin raised his camera but Ginny smashed her hand in front of the lens. "Alright, alright."  
  
"I've got to get out! I was looking forward to the dance, I have to get my dress robes pressed and pick out earrings to match." Ginny always looked forward to the school dances; they only had one or two a year. The Halloween ball was always her favorite though. Everyone wore dark colors, the Great Hall was a brilliant gold with fake spider webs, Hagrid's pumpkins were larger than the dance floor, and the music was just right.  
  
"You won't be leaving this bed!" Madame Pomfrey had returned. She was holding a bottle full of thick, red, syrupy liquid. "All of you out, Virginia needs her rest." She smiled sweetly and opened the doors for the three students to leave. Ron gave Ginny a kiss on the forehead and left with Hermione and Colin who waved their good-byes.  
  
"Madame Pomfrey, can't I go to the ball tomorrow?" She didn't know how badly she wanted to go until the opportunity was taken away.  
  
"I daresay not! You only just woke, and you have bruises along your lower back and a sprained ankle. Not to mention the concussion you've suffered!" Ginny groaned and turned on her stomach. "Not so fast, open your mouth and take a spoon of this." Pomfrey poured the liquid onto a large soupspoon.  
  
"What is it?" Ginny scrunched up her nose.  
  
"It will stop the pounding in your head and help you sleep. I'll be mending the ankle as your sleeping and trying my best with your back." Ginny opened her mouth to ask another question but Madame Pomfrey stuck the spoon in. The syrup was thick like jello and the taste resembled earwax.  
  
***  
  
"HERMIONE! What's taking so long?"  
  
"I'M NEARLY READY!"  
  
The Halloween feast was taking place in five minutes Ron concluded, checking his watch. The students were already dressed in they're formal robes of mostly scarlet, green, black, and blue. Hermione was really taking her time getting ready, she wanted to look her best for Ron; and she did.  
  
She came out of her room and looked down the balcony of the stairs at her adorable boyfriend. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were bugging out of his head.  
  
"Wow, 'Mione, you're stunning."  
  
Hermione wore dark blue robes with gold sparkles shining every time she moved. Her hair was pulled up with pins and several brown curly strands fell around her heart-shaped face. She had dark red lipstick on which made her smile brighter than ever. Her eyes were surrounded in a misty gray- blue shadow. She really was stunning.  
  
"Wow, Ron, you're-uh-you're, what are you?" Hermione smirked and kissed Ron's cheek as he blushed. She knew that he didn't own nice dress robes, but she loved him no matter how unfashionable he looked.  
  
Ron took her small arm and led the way to the Hall. "Come on beautiful, we're going to be late."  
  
***  
  
Harry held his still ex-girlfriends hand as they walked into the Great Hall. He was more than thankful he didn't have to share his dinner with Cho, since they were in different houses. The only thing he would have liked to do at dinner was catch a word with Brooke, but she didn't show. He tried repeatedly to talk to her all week long, but she wasn't anywhere. Three days ago, he thought he saw her arm with all the bangles in a crowd, only he didn't make it over in time to see who it was.  
  
Cho nudged his arm, he hadn't said anything to her since they met, and he didn't plan to. "Harry, I know you're shy, but really, I won't bite!"  
  
He hated her so bloody much. "I'm NOT shy!"  
  
"Riiight." Cho was wearing black robes, fitted to make her chest stand out. Her hair was down and certain strands were curled and lay on top of the rest. Her eyes were powdered in green. Harry didn't like the green eye makeup. It made her look even more fake.  
  
Harry looked everywhere around the Hall for Brooke. He just had a feeling in his stomach that he should find her. He wanted to talk to her more than anything in the world. "Why don't we sit down?" Harry didn't want to end up dancing with Cho; that would be wrong because he would imagine her being Brooke anyway.  
  
They sat. And they didn't talk. And Cho started twirling her hair. And Harry started humming. And Harry looked...and looked...and looked. And then Ron and Hermione came over. Thank god.  
  
"What's up, you two?" Hermione looked better than ever. It wasn't her robes or her makeup though, it was her smile. She was sincerely happy, happier than Harry had ever seen her. She had certain glow embedded in her skin.  
  
"We're just uh-sitting." Came Cho's reply.  
  
"I can see that." Ron looked happy too. Actually, he looked overjoyed. He held Hermione's hand tighter than usual and stood closer to her than normal. Harry wanted to be glad for his two friends, he really did. But why was it so simple for them? Why couldn't he be with Brooke right now, holding her hand, standing closer than normal, looking like he inhaled laughing gas? Why did he have to be with Cho Chang?  
  
"Harry, why don't you dance with Cho?" Hermione was oblivious. She obviously thought Harry wanted to be with this stupid girl. Ron knew better and gave Hermione a nudge in the rib. Apparently she caught on. "Or you can just sit there, dancing isn't for everyone of course." She said lamely.  
  
"I think we should dance, Harry." Cho didn't make it sound like a question, it was an order, and Harry was her pitiful lapdog. He wasn't always like this, he used to be brave, and he used to be able to tell people to bug off if he didn't want them near, or at least have the sense to pick himself up and leave. But a shadow had slowly loomed over him. It started just at the end of last year, and for a few shimmering days, the shadow had slightly lifted, but it set back again like a dark black cloud...similar to the weather outside.  
  
"Right." Harry emerged from his chair and followed Cho to the dance floor, giving Hermione a death stare on the way.  
  
Harry wasn't a very good dancer. The Weird Sisters playing from the walls had a fast beat and Harry didn't know what to do. Luckily, a slow song came on. A song that made his heart leap.  
  
The first notes were played and Cho took a step closer to Harry. "Why do you look so funny?" No answer. "Harry, it's alright, you can just hold my waist and we'll dance together." Cho propped her hands on his shoulders.  
  
Harry Potter had enough. This song reminded him too much of the girl he wanted to be with. And this stupid bitch had ruined all the hope he had with her. "Get off of me, Cho. I don't want to be here at this dance with you. I don't even like you." She didn't believe him because she remained smiling. "Oh Merlin! Don't you understand? You're an annoying little prat with some serious problems. I never had an interest in asking you here. I was going to ask another girl, a girl that I really liked to be with, but you interrupted. You took my chances away. And I do not want to dance with you. I NEVER DO!"  
  
Harry left the Hall in a storming blaze. His heart was thumping madly. He descended the grand staircase and out of the front doors. He couldn't remember ever lashing out at someone like that, he was usually very mature and rational, never one to lose his temper so badly, until now.  
  
A strong gust of wind slapped him in the face. The air was freezing cold but it felt good. Harry liked the feeling of the hurt gripping his body. He just wanted to feel something. Something different from wanting-- wanting Brooke.  
  
And there she was by the lake. He could just make her out in the moonlight.  
  
***  
  
Draco was just entering the Great Hall with Pansy Parkinson at his side when he realized this wasn't what he wanted to do. Pansy tugged at his elbow, trying to make him continue on his walk.  
  
"What is it Draco? I want to dance." Pansy's green robes were very small for her. Her breasts stuck out and you could see her bellybutton through the fabric. Her hair was down with thousands of sparkles in it from a glamour charm. She wore dark makeup on her eyes, red blush, and pink lipstick. She was lucky she was naturally pretty, otherwise people would mistake her for a clown.  
  
"You go on ahead, I don't think I'll be attending." Draco wore the same robes as always, since everything he wore day in and day out was fancy. The only thing different in his appearance was he left his hair down. It fell around his face and a few in his eyes. It looked healthy, and for the first time he was happy with it.  
  
"Oh, why not?" Pansy whimpered.  
  
"I have other things to do with my time." Draco gave her a curt nod and turned with a swish of his robes towards the hospital wing.  
  
He didn't know why he was going to see Virginia Weasley. She had been haunting his brain for the past week. When she fell from her broom, Draco was sickened from what he had done. It wasn't the kiss that he felt horrible for; it was the fact he was always ruthless and nasty towards her. She didn't deserve it, not at all.  
  
He arrived at the double doors. His hands were sweaty but his face looked unattached. He hid his feelings better than anyone, with more skill than anyone. But it wasn't much of an accomplishment for Draco.  
  
***  
  
An hour before the dance had started Brooke had just came from her room. She had been in her dormitory for the entire day and thought of looking at a different scene. The students were all at dinner so she had the Common Room to herself, if not for a few people walking through once in a while.  
  
She plopped herself down on a scarlet couch that almost collapsed with the weight. The fire was dyeing ever so slowly, she watched, fascinated. Brooke took out her small notebook she had brought with her and an eagle feather quill.  
  
Out of the ashes  
  
He's born in.  
  
The black waste of love  
  
He's left with.  
  
He yawns and stretches,  
  
Taking in the surroundings,  
  
Of what he has.  
  
Harsh words spoken,  
  
And sights the green has seen,  
  
Hasn't left him marred  
  
Or even broken.  
  
He sings.  
  
For all the others who have fallen.  
  
Brooke smiled as she heard her Phoenix singing softly from her room.  
  
"What have you got there?"  
  
Brooke jumped and whipped her head around. She snapped her book closed and met eyes with a tall, red haired Irish boy. He had purple expensive robes on and an amusing black hat with a bright green feather sticking out.  
  
"It's none of your business. Keep your little nose away from me before you don't have one anymore." She glared at him, but he only smiled.  
  
"Oi, I didn't mean to startle you. Don't you remember me?"  
  
"Remember you? I don't know anyone at this school; I'm new here. I'll be going now." Brooke stood and made an attempt at walking back to her room.  
  
"Brooke Parthenia Parkinson." She stopped walking immediately; the voice was so familiar, how did he know her middle name? It couldn't be? "Brookie Cookie."  
  
"FRED!" Brooke's whole face lit up like a match. She turned around and ran back towards her old friend, Fred Weasley, giving him a big hug. "What are you doing here?" She asked into his shoulder.  
  
"More like what are you doing here? You knew I go-er-went to this school." They finished their hug.  
  
"That was such a long time ago."  
  
"Yeah it was. I came here because Dumbledore wanted to speak with me and a few other graduates. My brother and sister go here now, have you met them? Ron and Ginny." A light went off in Brooke's head. That's why Ron looked so familiar. And Ginny, wasn't Ginny the one who was with Harry in the beginning of the year? She heard a rumor that she's in the hospital wing now in an attempt to commit suicide because she loved Harry so much and couldn't deal with losing him.  
  
"I've met them, Ron's very nice, I didn't realize his last name was Weasley, although I wouldn't say much for his taste in girls." Fred raised a brow. "And Ginny-well-I know her." She changed the subject. "What are you doing with your life, Fred?" Brooke liked saying his name; she hadn't said it in six years.  
  
"I've got my own business with George."  
  
"Business? What kind of business? I'd flip if I found out George and Fred Weasley worked at some desk filing papers all day long."  
  
"It's a very proper business, one that requires great skill and knowledge." Fred put on a false-sophisticated voice and at the same moment he threw a pebble-looking thing onto the ground. The pebble jumped and hopped around the room, gaining speed with every bounce. After about the fifth, it went so high in the air that it hit the ceiling and started to ricochet off the walls.  
  
Brooke was sent into a fit of giggles, she realized how much she had missed Fred at that moment. When she was very young her parents used to work together at the Ministry and were very good friends. The Parkinson's never told the Weasley's that they used to be spies, of course. When the families got together, the children would always play with each other ever since they were in diapers. Brooke seemed to have taken to Fred over Ron and George. When they got together they'd sneak off and cause mischief; they were very good at it too.  
  
Over time Brooke's parents separated. When Brooke turned nine she was taken to live with her father and hadn't seen Fred since.  
  
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Fred had a serious face, something that looked peculiar on him.  
  
"Yes, it has, but you haven't changed from what I could remember. You're still inventive and creative, that rock thing is spectacular!"  
  
"Weasley's ricocheting-rock." Fred straitened his tie and began smiling again. "And you're remarkably the same! I remember more than you do because I'm older and much more intelligent." His eyes gleamed. "The way you were so feisty when I came up to you was just so Brooke, no one could have pulled that off as well as you did." The teenagers smiled at each other and a slightly awkward silence passed. "I've got to get going, I've got to go to the meeting with Dumbledore, and then I promised to meet up with Ron and Harry before they go to the dance. You know Harry, right? Harry Potter."  
  
She knew him all too well. "I know who he is." She rolled her copper eyes and crossed her arms dramatically.  
  
"Whoa! I'm defiantly going to have to talk to you later." He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a bright yellow card. "Owl me here. I'll also be back to Hogwarts from time to time, there's something funny going on so they'll need as many graduates near by as they can get." He gave her another hug before she could ask about the 'something funny going on.' "See you later, Cookie."  
  
"Bye Freddiekinns!"  
  
"Sshhhh!" His face turned red like it had six years ago and he left.  
  
***  
  
"Hermione, the dance is nearly over, let's get out before the crowd." Ron was dancing in the middle of the Great Hall with the girl he believed to be the most gorgeous out of everyone and anyone else.  
  
"We have a whole half hour before the dance ends! Aren't you enjoying yourself?" Hermione had been so cheery the whole evening with Ron, she figured he felt the same since he hadn't left her side once.  
  
"Of course I am, but I just want to spend some time with you alone." His ears turned pink.  
  
"Oh, Ron." She smiled even though her cheeks hurt from this reoccurring face action and walked out of the massive doors, careful not to step on others robes while leaving. "Where are we going?"  
  
"It doesn't really matter, how 'bout just over there?" Ron pointed to the end of the hallway to his right. There was an uncomfortable looking bench at the end, leaning against a gaping window.  
  
The couple walked to the wooden bench, hand in hand and took a seat. Hermione crossed her legs and started fidgeting, twisting her hands and taking more than one deep breath at a time. Ron only stared, fixated on Hermione. He had a crush on her even before he knew it. He liked her since the day she opened the compartment door on the Hogwarts Express in his first year, asking if he'd seen Neville's lost toad.  
  
He remembered how he had made fun of her just so he could be talking about her with an excuse, how she had no friends and was a snobby know-it-all. That was the day he realized how much he cared about her, he was so frightened the mountain troll would smash her to bits that he'd never have the chance to apologize.  
  
But they became friends, and he was amazed with all the gifts she had. She read books, studied for hours, knew an answer to any question, saved him from Devil's Snare, figured out the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and the monster inside it, managed to take a billion classes at one time, helped free Sirius...  
  
"Ron, are you alright?" He was looking at her curiously for a long five minutes.  
  
"I'm fine, I'm perfect, Hermione. Thank you." He wanted to thank her for everything she had done for him in his life. She had been his first crush, and still is. She had helped him through things she doesn't even know about, things Ron doesn't even know about yet. Ron's eyes were glazed over in a maniac way and he wouldn't blink for a second. He just looked at Hermione.  
  
"You're starting to scare me, Ron."  
  
"I didn't mean to do that." He didn't sound like he cared too much. "You're brilliant, Hermione. Really, brilliant."  
  
"What?" He looked so sincere; it was really creeping her out.  
  
"You're fascinating, you're so perfect." Ron snapped himself out of his trance; it was as if someone else was forcing him to voice his thoughts. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that." A very familiar creep of red stained his cheeks.  
  
Hermione blushed along. "Shall we go back to the dance?"  
  
"Only if you let me show you off to everyone. Why did you go with me anyway?"  
  
"Try not to show the stupid git that you are, Ron." He didn't catch on to the joke. "I went with you because you're my boyfriend, because I think you're wonderful and extremely cute." His face turned even redder, if possible. "Let's get back." Hermione ruffled his long, burgundy hair and slid her hand to his cheek, then gave him a sweet his on his pouty lips. "Why do you think I want to get back so badly?" She whispered. "I enjoy showing you off just as much, love."  
  
Ron recovered quickly and returned to smiling, as he had previously been doing all night.  
  
***  
  
Just out of the window he could see the speckled moon. It shown brightly through and its light grazed the cheeks of Ginny. The white room made her seem like an angel. She hadn't noticed the on-looker; she was too busy unwrapping a Chocolate Frog box from one of her admirers.  
  
Ginny mumbled incoherently to herself, "Griselda again, I have about four already."  
  
"Talking to yourself Weasley? That could land you in St. Mungo's if you aren't careful." Ginny jumped, startled. She hastily shoved her card back into the box and set it on her bedside table. She had been wondering when Malfoy would come to see her; she hadn't been expecting the night of the dance.  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Draco took two giant steps to Ginny's bedside. The light caste on his face didn't make him look evil like usual, he looked like a regular teenage boy--one with a few troubles--but an average boy none the less. Ginny felt comfortable in his presence for the first time, his insults didn't seem to bother her as much.  
  
"I decided to take a stroll to the hospital wing, don't ask why, but I wanted to see if you were well." Draco adverted his eyes away from her. Silence had passed, slipping into the seconds uncontrollably.  
  
"Take a seat, Draco." She called him Draco. For some reason unbeknownst to him, a weight Draco didn't even know existed was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe more freely.  
  
He sat with the elegance only a Malfoy could provide. "So then, how are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm doing fine, I don't know why I wasn't allowed to go to the dance tonight." She sighed. "Why aren't you at the dance?"  
  
"Like I'd go to some immature Halloween ball, I have more class than to do that. Usually the Slytherins have their own party in one of the dungeons, but we weren't able organize it this time." Draco flipped his head back, tossing a strand of blonde in his eye away.  
  
"I see." Ginny had the nerves to do it now, so she might as well carry on and ask him. "Why did you kiss me when we were on our brooms?"  
  
Draco didn't like questions if they weren't subtle. She just came right out and said whatever the bloody hell she wanted to, so unlike a Malfoy. He wanted to say 'I didn't kiss you' but because she was the one he had kissed, he didn't think the lie would go very far. "You had to do something because you lost."  
  
Ginny pondered, Draco could almost see her little mind spinning. "Well I wasn't the one who did anything, it was more like you kissing me, not the other way around."  
  
"Yes, but I knew you wouldn't kiss me so I decided to do it myself."  
  
"You wanted to that badly?" Ginny looked shocked, but also very amused, which pissed the hell out of Draco.  
  
"Of course not! I just knew you wouldn't like it, so that's why I did it." He knew his answer didn't make much sense, but what else could he say? Usually, Draco was very good at making up stories and lies; he was a fast thinker.  
  
"So that was some sort of torture?" Ginny sat up in her bed and scooted over to the side to face Draco. She whispered her words to him so quietly he only just made out what she had said.  
  
"I suppose." Draco gripped the armrest of his chair; he was fucking nervous. She was so close that he could smell her chocolate lip-gloss. Draco rested one hand in Ginny's long red hair.  
  
"Torture me again, Draco." Ginny whispered into his mouth and pressed her lips firmly in Draco's. That familiar taste of vanilla came storming back to her. Draco began to nibble on Ginny's bottom lip and Ginny wrapped her small arms around his back. He brought her closer with one hand and lifted her onto the bed without breaking their kiss.  
  
Draco dipped his tongue inside Ginny's warm mouth, tasting all the riches of her. She slowly massaged her tongue with his. It was like a dream being kissed back by Ginny Weasley, being kissed was one thing, kissing was another, but sharing a warm and sensual kiss like this with the most delicate girl he'd ever seen was something he'd never thought existed. He let his body weight go on top of her and she let out a startled moan, he loved hearing her moan, knowing it was he causing her to do so.  
  
He smiled into her mouth and began to feel her body with his own. Draco could tell Ginny didn't have a bra on, he felt her breasts through the single white sheet and his own clothes. Her waist was so small and petite, and her butt curved nicely out, then her slim legs, intertwined around his.  
  
"Weasley." He gasped. Little innocent Virginia was stroking his arse. It was such a nice arse too. Actually, his whole body was fantastic. His chest was hard from playing Quidditch and his shoulders were thin but broad. One of his pale arms was holding her hip and his other was tucked underneath her head. Then, he snaked one hand up Ginny's pajama top. He felt her small bellybutton, and stroked her stomach. He started to reach up farther when Ginny broke their heavy kiss.  
  
"Not so fast Malfoy," She half panted. "I might blind you, remember?"  
  
"That's impossible, you're gorgeous." It was the first true statement he made about Ginny.  
  
She laced her fingers into Draco's white locks. "I like your hair like this, it makes you look less snotty." She grinned and began to sit back up, pushing Draco's warmth off of her.  
  
"I'll wear it like this from now on, then." He sat up too but didn't leave her hospital bed.  
  
"You should get going, Draco. I'll see you again soon." She tucked a piece of her lovely hair behind her ear.  
  
"Goodbye Weasley." He nodded and took a step away from her bed to leave but stopped short and turned back around. "I'll see you at the next Quidditch match in three days." He came closer to her and said with a husky voice, "don't fall off of your broom again when we beat you." He smirked and took his leave with a dramatic toss of his robes.  
  
***  
  
The bottoms of her jeans were torn, leaving strands of thread hanging to her shoes. She had holes in her pants at the knees and smaller ones at her thighs too. Her black sweatshirt had the word 'Dance' embroidered across the chest in pink. Her hood was up, blocking the wind from her stunning face. Her golden hair peaked out on the left side of the hood, playing into the breeze.  
  
She was unfocused, sorting through her thoughts while leaning against a tall tree facing the pond. Harry wondered what she was thinking. He was scared to walk up to her, to interrupt the stigmatized moment.  
  
He only stood a yard away and she still didn't take notice. Maybe she knew he was there but pretended she didn't realize? He figured that was the case, after all, she should be upset with him. Then she spoke, "you always show up when I want to be alone."  
  
Brooke didn't turn her head towards him; she was still looking off into the lake. Harry wondered how she knew it was him she was speaking to. "I could leave," Only he didn't leave, he stepped closer and knelt down beside her. The dirt was cold against his hands that balanced him and the grass was damp, seeping through his robes at the knees.  
  
He only whispered to her, he felt like he shouldn't interrupt the quietness. "I just wanted you to know that I don't have any interest in Cho Chang, she's an old girlfriend. I couldn't help thinking of you all this week; you were on my mind every second. I couldn't find you anywhere, not even at meal times."  
  
She acted like she hadn't heard him at all; she kept on looking strait ahead. A waft of her sent spilled onto Harry when another breeze passed. She didn't smell like he remembered, she smelled--if possible--depressed, just like he was. It was the sent of laying in bed without falling asleep all night, of sitting in darkness while the sun was high in the air, of staring out into nothing, of not remembering what shirt you were wearing right then, of ignoring everyone around you. "Brooke, what's wrong?"  
  
Then she finally turned, her eyes were the brightest gold he had ever seen them. His head started to ache under her stare. It was like she wasn't looking at him, but at the same time she was. "I don't feel like talking." Harry thought for a glimmer of a second that she would open her heart to him again, instead she said 'get the fuck away from me'-well, more or less.  
  
Harry stood and Brooke focused her attention back to the lake. He started walking back to the castle when she spoke again, "The question is Potter, what's wrong with you?"  
  
He turned back around and found her staring into him. His features were distorted: his hair was the messiest it had ever been (like he hadn't brushed it for months), his face was pale like chalk, his robes looked like he had thrown them on in a hurry with his tie loosened, and his eyes shot emerald daggers at anyone who looked into them. It was undoubtedly, the sexiest Brooke at ever seen him.  
  
"Nothing's wrong with me."  
  
"Well then, nothing's wrong with me either." She turned back towards the lake. Harry sighed and sat next to her for a second time.  
  
"You want to know what's wrong?" She nodded. Harry bit his lip and focused on what to say. "I...It's just..." He shook his head in argumentation. "I don't have anybody. That's how I feel, its how I've always felt." Brooke looked back to him and it seemed her eyes had grown softer, although he could have been imagining it. "Everyone that's ever been there for me was taken away. And the thing that bothers me the most is that I was the reason they were taken away; it was my fault."  
  
"Are you talking about your parents?"  
  
"My parents and Sirius, my god father. And you were taken away too-."  
  
"You care about me that much?" Brooke looked shocked, like she had come to some outrageous realization.  
  
"Of course I do, you helped me forget. You made me happy to be here, for the simple reason that you were depressed too. I was so glad that you were happier around me and I was ecstatic just saying one word to you. Everything made some sort of sense around you, either that, or it didn't matter that it didn't make sense."  
  
She giggled. It was so innocent and sweet that Harry had to smile. The movement his face made felt unfamiliar. "You're gorgeous when you smile." Said Brooke and Harry's face returned some of its color.  
  
"Where have you been this past week? Why didn't you go to the dance?"  
  
"I've been in my room mostly, I called a house elf for my food. And I didn't go to the dance because I didn't have a date or any friends."  
  
Harry's heart gave a tight squeeze. He couldn't figure out why no one would be friends with her, she's so attractive and interesting. "I'm your friend." She nodded.  
  
"I don't really mind not having friends; I like being by myself. I wouldn't have to trouble them with my problems."  
  
"What problems?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I can't tell you." She paused, "I couldn't ever tell you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
She heaved a sigh and stared back to the lake, "because you wouldn't be my friend anymore."  
  
***  
  
"We'll be getting a move on any day now."  
  
"As we should, the nights are getting darker and the storms getting restless."  
  
"Parkinson."  
  
"Yes, My Lord?"  
  
"Bring me your daughters tomorrow night, I wish to start then."  
  
"Of course, My Lord."  
  
"Malfoy, same for you. Bring me my young Malfoy."  
  
"Yes, My Lord."  
  
The death eaters stood in a circle around their master. They had their black robes on over their heads and masks over their faces. They were inside an old muggle house-their lord's old muggle house.  
  
"My Lord, sir?"  
  
"What is it, Wormtail?"  
  
"Sir, I was just wondering about our plans of attack, sir. Against Harry Potter."  
  
"That will be settled tomorrow. I have plans for our three guests, as I have already told those worthy of hearing. I will be starting our plans tonight. Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle get a move on."  
  
***  
  
A/N: That chapter went fast! The next one will start my plot and wont have much romance in it (but of course a nice bit, I wouldn't be able to write anything without love) but more action/fighting/dueling.  
  
Thank you for the TWO people who reviewed, it was much appreciated.  
  
I'd like to think more people are reading this and if there is, please review, it means so much.  
  
Silver: I'm very glad you like the pairings, I wasn't sure if people would like Brooke. The action is coming next chapter, promise! Review again, I love them sooo much :-) Oh yeah, very happy you liked the fight with Harry and Ron, it was hard to write though, I like them as friends.  
  
Janet: You always review and I thank you for that a billion times. I put more Draco and Ginny there for you, and I'm happy with the way it turned out. Review soon, and please update your story. 


	8. Vitality feebleness vigor and strength

A roll of purple wind circulated around the castle while the lightening blasted and the thunder screamed its familiar shrill cry. The rain grew heavier and thicker as it fell from the stars, creating immense pools of red liquid in the healthy grass and harsh pavement. If you didn't catch a glance out the window while a light was on, you wouldn't notice the weather's behavior. Or so you would think...  
  
Brooke whipped her nose across a soft tissue and trailed the sleeve of her sweatshirt under her eyes to rid of the runny eyeliner. She had returned from the long talk with Harry by the lake and the only thing overpowering her to re-live his sharp, penetrating eyes, was a long sleep.  
  
She threw the tissue into her trash bin and fell onto her large, firm mattress.  
  
The night came upon her like her Grandmother's warm knitted blanket and a soft song whispered only for her ears. Not even five minutes passed her by when a knock at the door shook her senses and woke her up with a startle.  
  
"Brooke, open the door. We've got to get going right now."  
  
It was a male voice. Brooke stood up, tossed her heavy Gray robes over her shoulders, and went to the door. There stood Draco Malfoy in his clean cut, flawless glory. Brooke's spirits dropped as soon as she met eyes with her sister standing next to Draco. Pansy had identical robes on as Draco only hers had a piece of white string hanging at the bottom, unknown to her.  
  
"Where are we going?" Brooke asked, although she could have guessed. She thought all this was just going to blow over because of the time lapse after she received the letter. Guess she was wrong.  
  
"My father owled me, telling me to bring both of you to a manor just outside Hogwarts. He said it was time." Draco pressed his lips together in what looked like to stop from vomiting.  
  
Brooke only bit her lip and nodded. She went back to her room and changed into black robes like the other two and left out the door.  
  
The walk to the gates of Hogwarts was shorter than Brooke would have liked. They didn't talk or even mumble a sound except for when they opened the entrance hall doors. The storm outside was enough to blow a sack of flower into the forest.  
  
"Oh Merlin!" Pansy exclaimed.  
  
"Wonderful." Draco stated sarcastically.  
  
"Fuck!" Brooke moaned while pulling her hood over her head. The others followed in this action and started their way to the end of the Hogwarts grounds.  
  
The rain smacked onto their hoods and shoulders like a pebble shot from a gun. They half expected the heavy rain to make holes in the fabric. The winds shot into their eyes causing them to water and eventually close their lids in protection.  
  
On they walked through the night. You would think the weather caused them to fret, but they were more worried about what would be occurring after they had left the rain and were in the shelter of some old manor. That is why their walk seemed so short.  
  
Eventually, they found their portkey some yards away from the gate. It was a plastic shopping bag, which they all held, that took them out of nature's grasp and into a foggy room with a fire lit and a dozen people in masks and long dark robes.  
  
Shivering, the three dropped the plastic, water-heavy bag and began to look at their surroundings. The room was lit with an orange glow emitted from the large fire and some torches on the walls. There were pictures across the room, though no one was in the right mood to admire them. The floor was of dark wood with a maroon rug thrown across it, which looked new.  
  
The other twelve Death Eaters wore their masks and whether you could see their eyes or not, you could tell they were all pointed at Brooke, Draco, and Pansy.  
  
"Ah, you have arrived." The voice said. It was a horrible sound, like he was screaming in your ears but at the same time he was only whispering. 'Perhaps if death had a voice that's what it would sound like?' Brooke thought.  
  
The teenagers nodded in unison to the voice coming from a shadow in the corner. Wouldn't it be a relief to see the face of the man who has murdered thousands of muggles? Of the mad who had frightening the wizarding world so much they didn't speak his name. The answer was obviously no.  
  
"We may start then." The voice said.  
  
"Yes my lord, we may start." Said one of the Death Eaters. Brooke knew it was Lucius Malfoy, she could detect that sexy drawl anywhere. "The three of you, into the middle."  
  
They nodded again and stood in the middle of the circle of black robes and ghostly masks. Pansy's hands were shaking slightly, Draco breathed heavily, and Brooke bit her bottom lip.  
  
"We will be testing your vitality, feebleness, vigor, and strength. To do this, you will be cursing each other until there is a winner. No use of unforgivables or disarming spells, we want this to last long." Said an unrecognizable voice. "When you've had you can take, you may join us in the circle and await your punishment for being so weak. The winner will be awarded immensely."  
  
"Take your stance." Another Death Eater ordered; a female voice. The three walked so that they formed a triangle and raised their wands above their heads. "Begin!" She screamed.  
  
"STUPEFY!" Draco and Brooke shouted while pointing their wands at Pansy. Apparently, they both thought she was the weakest. Pansy tried to move out of the way but was too slow. The green light hit her in the stomach and she fell backwards, although she wasn't unconscious.  
  
Okay, this chapter is NOT DONE. I repeat, this chapter is NOT YET FINNISHED! I know how looonnnngggg it took me to write this and I'm so sorry for those of you who have been waiting. I will try very hard to finish it. Also, I started another story. A Draco/Harry one. If you don't like gayness then don't read it. If you do, then I'm telling you it's much better than this story. Please try to read it. Thanks again and I'll update soon, Chelsea 


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